r 


>. 


^%%. 


«■■ï  ,    '> 


■  i 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TESt  TARGET  (MT-S) 


^ 
r 


1.0 


128 


lâ£ 


lgâ 


l.l 


.     12.2 


iRhI 


2.0 


L8 


■ 

1:25  |,U 

111^ 

-V. 

^                                                                              '" 

:V 

— -                           ^ 

w 

\ 


^ 


-^ -T- 


•A 


Sdences 
(^rporation 


23  WiST  MAIN  STREET 
'       WEBSTEt.N.Y.  14580 
(716)  «72-4503 


^ 


\ 


<^ 


^:%\ 


"^ 


1 

m 

( 

• 

r 

Can 

^^^ 

CIHM 
Microfiche 
Séries 
(Monographs) 


ICiMH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographies)r 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microraproductiont  /  Institut  canadien  da  microraproductions  historiques 


Ttchnical  afid  Bibliographie  Notn  /  Notas  tachniquas  et  bibliographiquat 


The  Inttitute  has  att^pted  to  obtain  the  bast  original 
copy  available  for  f i|hiing.  Faaturas  of  thii  eopy  which 
may  be  bibliographj^lly  unique,  which  may  altar  any 
of  the  intaget  in  tl^  reproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming.  are 
checked  below.  f 


; 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


j       I  Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  enddmmagée 


•□ 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurée  et/ou  palliculéa 


dî: 


Cover  title  missing/ 

titre  de  couverture  manque 


□  Coloured  maps/ 
Cà 


D 

n 

D 

n 
n 


n 


Cartes  géographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

% 
Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  matériel/ 
Relié  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  bindijng  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serrée  peut  causer  fie  l'ombre  ou  de  la 
distorsion  le  long  de  la  marge  intérieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may  appaar 
within  the  text.  Whehever  possible,  thèse  hâve 
been  omitted  from  filming/ 
Il  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutées 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  était  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  été  filmées. 


Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  supplémentaires: 


This  item  is  f  ilmad  at  the  réduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  filmé  au  taux  de  réduction  indiqué  ci-dessous. 


L'Institut  a  microfilmé  le  meilleur  exemplaire  qu'il    • 
lui  a  été  ponible  de  se  procurer.  Les  détails  de  cet 
exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-être  uniques  du  point  de  vue 
bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier  une  image 
reproduite,  ùu  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modification 
dans  la  méthode  normale  de  filmage  sont  indiqués 
ci-dessous. 

□  Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

□  Pages  damaged/  7 

Pages  endommagées  ^i». 

□  Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaurées  et/ou  pelliculées 

0  Pages  discoloured.  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  décolorées,  tachetées  ou  piquées 

□  Pages  detached/ 
Pages  détachées 

I 

0Showthrough/ 
Transparence  i  y 


Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Qualité  inégale  de  l'impression 

Continuous  pagination/ 
Pagination  continue 

Includes  index(es)/ 
Comprend  un  (des)  index 

Title  on  header  taken  from:  / 
Le  titre  de  l'en-téteprovient: 


}6 

n 
n 


/ , 


j        I  Title  page  of  issue/ 


Page  de  titre  de  la  livraison 


I        I  Caption  of  issue/ 


n 


Titre  de  départ  de  la  livraison 

Masthead/ 

Générique  (périodiques)  de  la  livraison 


% 


¥'-^ 


tt:^ 


^zex- 


"30*^ 


.t- 
1 


J 

12X 

16X 

20X 

/ 

24  X 

28  X 

32  X 

m 


«M 


The  copy  filmed  hère  has  been  reproduced  thânks 

to  the  generosity.of:  i  ^ 

.  ■■      \'  * 

National  Ubrary  of  Canada 


V 


The  images -appeâring  hère  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keepinç  with  the 
filming  contract  spécifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres< 
sion.  or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  AH      ^: 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — ^(meaning  "CON- 
TINUED").  or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
w^ichever  applies. 

Maps,  plates,  charte,  etc..  may  be  filmed  at 
différent  réduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the-upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom.  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


L'exemplaire  filmé  fut  reproduit  grflce  à  la 
générosité  de:  /  . 

Bibliothèque  nationale  du  Canada 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  été  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la jiétteté  de  l'exemplaire  filmé,  ^x  en 
confc(rf1fiité  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
fili|»égë.      %     ■  ' .- 

J,ÎBS%}i«mplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
|>apier  esfimprimée  sont  filmés  en  commençant- 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la     / 
dernière  page  qui  comporta  une  empreinte       / 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmés  en  commençant jiar  la 
première  page  qui  comporte  une  empi(einte^ 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminent^  par 
la  dernière  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte.  ^ 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaîtra  sur  la 
dernière  image  de  chaque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  -♦►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE  ".  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc..  peuvent  être 
filmés  à  des  taux  de  réduction  différents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  être 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliché,  il  est  filmé  à  partir 
de  l'angle  supérieur  gauche,  de  gauche  à  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nécessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  méthode. 


.  ',■  ■!*■  » 


_.^. 


% 


1 

\  i 

■» 
3 

i 

} 


1 


D 


32  X 


N^ 


SM* 


p*. 


,1-  il 


P0PT7LAR  NOTELS. 

By  ICay  Agnes  Flenûng. 

l.-GlTY  BABLSOOXTBT'S  WIF& 
S.^-A  WONDSRFUL  WOMAN. 
8.— À  TEBBIBLB  BBOEET. 
4.— NOÎtlNITS  BEVENOB. 
^— A  lOD  MABBIAGB.     ' 
6.— ONB  NIOETS  inrSTEBT. 
7.— KATB  DANTON. 
8.— SILBNT  AND  TEUR    (New.) 


m 


.1 

,  '« 

*  Xn.  Flamlnc*!  itoriM  «n  grawlnir  mon  and  inai»  popk 
lar  «*«t7  daj.    Tbeir  ddinaraona  ol  oh 

ndy  T«ô^  KcnM,  moA  dtqpqr  t 
twwillng  plôta,  oombliM  to    ' 


tiMir  rattiar  fat  tlie  vHy 

flnttankoC  XMUra 

Hof<dhti." 


An  pobJfMd  anltonB  wHh  lltfa  Tolnma. 

•ndnnt/hMbyauaofiiceiiptoC  pelais  bT 

O.  W.  OABI.BTON  *  OO.,  VvUUken, 


^v^      -        Vil  ,.■ 


^      A 


"i  M. 


■J\, 


^. 


A 


MAD    MARRIÀGE.  • 


,  S  ^obtL 


sr 


MAY  AGNES  FLEMING. 

aVihok  ov 
"GUY     KiULSCOURT'S    WIFE,"    «A     WONDERFUL     WOICAN," 

..  *'a  terrible   secret,"   *<norine's  *  ^ 

"reveno^,"  eix:. 


*Smk  »  mmd  marriag* 


>  » 


TuubgortiteShrair* 


X 


HBW  TOBKt  I 
g.   nr.  Carieton  6?  Co.,  PttèSiJ^,, 


LOMDON:  S.  LOW,  SON  ft  00.. 
MOOOCLXXVni. 


1^'. 


■■^ 


*  f  : 

-   V  il  i 


'4- 


.•■*."  i'^^W 


<i\ 


/.' 


CaMRd  acGonfiag  to  Act  of  (Wi«m,  ia  Am  imx  187&  by 

G.  W.  CARLETON  &  CO., 
b  tbc  Ofl&oe  of  the^ifanriaa  d^  CongreM,  mt  Wathingtoo. 


\ 
(  ■   \ 


Iflov. 

PnMTING  AMD  BoOIckiNDIMG  CO.» 

nuimné, 
ao5-ai3  Rtui  xnk  St., 


m- 


)  ....       *r.. 


■3; 


%*      '    'î* 


I 

CONTENTS. 

■       »       . 

CBArm 

■   J— Jo«Keniiedy',Story-«TheHouKth«t  Wouldn'tUt"  '^'î 
IL— A  Woman  with  a  Secret a 

III.— The  Decree  of  Divorce.  .........*  *.'     " "  *  " 

IV.— A  Strange  Endin^i *" ' '^ 

V.— At  CaryUynae. . . . .......... . .       ^' 

VI.— Gordon  CaryU's  Story. ^* 

^ll.—tloyr  Lord  Viscount  Dynely  Died. .'.*.*.*..'.'.".' ^** 

1 


^>1 


PART    II. 


-:ot- 


-     I.— In  tlie  Royal  Academr. 
Il— Terry ^ 


79 


III.— Madame  Feui.... ' * ** 

IV.-Iady  Dynd/s  Thundiiy.*.*.*.".*.*.*.*'** '°** 

V.— LowTookUptliëGlaasofTii^ î°ï 

VI.— MTheLonioftbeLand'»  ' 

Vll.-f  Week'sReprie»*....     '" •  '^ 

VIIL-'^WhafaShe?"  '^ 

DC-Tening  Tetry. . ....    \  '  '''"'''• ""'^'A[ 

~7X.— TBffil^  ït  Oui  •-^^-^-^ .nr„^.^^«*- 

XI.— At  tbe  paie    1" ''* 

^^    • î'v' i8i 


^|l^A.^■^^  ",iv  \.  .^•...,  .> 


«^ 


g  ^  CONTE J^TS. 

'v 

'  PAG* 

CRArm 

XII.—"  They  Shall  Take  Who  Hâve  the  Power  " 190 

XIIL— lightly  Won,  Lightly  Lôst 200 

XIV.—"  Once  More  the  Gâte  Behind  Me  Falls  " «M 

2[v  — "  Stay  " i • *^ 

XVL— "Gordon  CaryU "...,. «30 

XVII.— Through  the  Sunset.  .1 r.'.J. «37 

XVIII.— Killing  the  Fatted  Calf ^....d..*    246 

XIX.— How  the  Old  Year  Ended .J.*! .......  203 


.LSX-' 


PART    III. 

mr%m '. 

« 

I.— How  the  New  Year  B^an *73 

II.—"  La  Belle  Dame  Sans  Merci" *9* 

m.— In  the  Streets...'. • • 307 

.  IV.— Donny 3»7 

V.— What  Love"  s  Yoong  Dream  Sometimes  Cornes  to 325 

VI.— At  theVarieties 335 

,VII.*-"AfterManyDays".. 34» 

VIII.— AMoming  CaU 357 

IX.—" The  Parting  that  They  Had" - 3o7 

X.— "IfanyCalm,  aCahn  Despaîr  " 375 

XI.— M.  LePrince 3^5 

XII.— At  the  Bal  d'Opéra.. '• 393 

XIIL— After  the  BalL • 4^ 

XIV.— Ches  Madame 4» 

XV.— "How  the  NightFètt  "..... 4»» 

XVL—"  Loyal  aa  Mort  " 4^ 

XVIL— How  the  Momirg  Broke 43» 

XVIIL— WhileitaMVctDay.«..w....... •  44» 

XIX.— "PostTcnebne,  Lax" ..T.,. «45^ 


'  «"iC 


g'-<»^.W«t*www'WTj!a-Ta^^WF^''w^''wwMwiM**wf*uiiiwppi^ 


'r;»r 


'r  •*»■" 


/-' 


A  MAD  MARRIAGE. 


A     » 


1: 


CHAPTER  I. 


Québec  ;  vou  Z»^  ,l?™  î  c"'î^'  I^^Mliified  town  o( 
mile  on,  TOtt  came  nnonf^!™       ?  ?P«n.  couatry,  and,  a 

clear.  "  »«.  But  «lUl  wAj,  it  wouidn'l  let  wû  not  so 

yo"  inight  hâve  n«.H>'lg'"  TT"?^ '"  ■g-cuhaial  tuni, 


w^^arewoodT.^''^  2^^^^%^ 


m 

•t*--.. 

•• 

■f  ~ . 

'■•'  » 

.  '•' 

W^ 

,  ■■•■■^'.r^:>F'-^ 

i 

- 

;      ■    ■ 

lO 


yOAJ^  KENNEDY' s  STORY. 


ventùrous  sportsman  took  up  his  abode  at  Saltmarsh.  Il 
wasn't  even  haunted  ;  it  looked  rather  like  that  sort  of  tliing, 
but  nobody  ever  went  exactly  so  far  as  to  affirm  that  it  was. 
No  ghastly  corpse-lights  ever  glimmered  from  those  duU 
upper  Windows,  no  piercingshrieks  ever  rent  the  midnight 
«lenoe,  no  spectre  lady,  whitp  and  tall,.ever  flitted  through 
the  desolate  roonis  of  Saltmarsh.  No  luurder  had  ever 
been  done  there  ;  no  legend  of  any  kind  was  connected  with 
the  place,  its  history  was  prosy  and  commonplace  to  a  de- 
gtee.  Yet  still,  year  in,  year  out,  the  inscription  remained 
up  over  the  dingy  wooden  gateway,  this  house  to  be  let  ; 
and  no  tenant  ever  came. 

"  Tom  Griinshaw  must  hâve  been  mad  when  he  built  the 
beastly  old  barn,"  the  présent  proprietor  would  growï  ; 
"  what  with  taxes,  and  repairs,  and  insurance,  there  it  stands, 
eating  its  own  head  oflF,  and  there  it  may  stand,  for  what  I 
see,  to  the  crack  of  doom.  One  would  think  the  very  trees 
that  surround  it  say,  in  their  warning  dreariness,  as  the  seu' 
tinels  of  Helheim  used  in  Northern  mythology  : 

^*  *  Who  passes  hère  is  damned.'  "     '     • 

If  this  strong  language  rouses  your  curiosity,  and  you 
asked  the  proprietor  the  history  of  the  house,  yoû  got  it 
terse  and  liicid,  thus  :  * 

"Old  Tom  Grimshaw  built  it,  sir.  Old  Tom  Grimshaw 
was  my  matemak  uncle,  rest  his  soûl  ;  it  is  to  be  hopêd  he 
has  more  sensé  in  the  other  world  than  he  ever  had  in  this. 
H,e  was  a  misofl^rnist,  sir,  of  the  rabidest  sort,  hating  a  petti- 
çoat  as  you  and  I  hâte  the  devil.  Don't  know  what  infernal 
mischief  the  wotàen'had  ever  done  him — plenty,  no^oubt  ;  it 
is  what  they  were  created  for.  The  fact  remains-^lhe  sight 
of  one  had  mucJi  the  same  çffect  upon  him  as  a  red  scarf  on 
a  roàd  buU.  lie  bought  this  marshy  spot  for  a  song,  built 
that  disgustingly  ugly  house^  barricaded  Himself  with  that 
timber  wall,  and  lived  and  died  there,  like  Diogenes,  or 
Robinson  Cruspe,  or  any  other  cAà  bloke  you  like.  As  heir- 
at-law,  the  old;  rattle-trap  fell  to  me,  and  a  precious  legacy 
It  has  beén,  I  çàn  tell  you.  It  wofii  rent,  and  it  has  to  be 
kept  in  rep^if,  and  I  wish  to  Heaven  old  Tom  Grimshaw 
hf»(1  tffjf«^h  jt  .withJhilii»,yh)er^vcr-hc  jg  liL~=.=l__,___,^ l_li,„ 


A 'j'^'AVî  '»'"  î'.-r.  .'  -.^k^' 


^..srXM^'^ 


*•  ;  ^  V  1  *■ 


-r*^. 


y04N ,KBNNEDY^S  STOJtV. 


w 


That  was  tjie  history  of  Saltmarsh      p«,  -•  u* 
leas  to  be  let,  and  hadn't  léTwfT'*  .*^°';  «'«^t  y«art  it 
bcgan  and  ended  ^  ^""^  ***  "  where  Ae  mattei 

Gray,  lonely,  weather-beaten,  so  I  had  Éf>r>n  m,-  r   i 
house  any  time  thèse  twenty  ye^-  so  tW.ïu?  -^  /°*^^'? 
•       I  am  to  Write  I  saw  it  a^ain  »!h?  »i.        ^  evenmg  of  which 
désolation  hVoSZ  ove^K^M  "^  "y«**^"?"»  sHadow  o| 

chTldhood  it  KhaHs  JicLrion  fi^"'  ^'^«^f^^e.     From 
Bluebeard's  castle  mv  drSS  m„  S  r  ""uT^^."  ''^^  "^«^  "'k 
this  fascinati^  horS^  t^^Z  t^''   .^  ^  f^^  °»<J^* 
and^wenty  it  H^eld  .e  wISL-^arpSl  ^^ft  Sld^o^^^ 

suîset,  slantingdown  the?  J..    V^u^^  ""^  ^*^^*  ^^^^'^ful 

neis^^rek^p^r^rw^^ry^^^^    •» 

and  snowwàsfafrW.  î  h^llfelH V^^^' f  ^^f  ^«  »'^'^' 
high  road  to  tmvel  fnd  nSl?  ^^u  *A"'  ^  °^  lonesome 
Sakarsh,  th«  htd^veff&  fo  t^  '^"^  '\'^^'  *>' 
a«ain.     I  ,tood  still  and  loSàt  it    It  tSf^f/'  '''^^.  "^" 

one  be  the  ^sftr     wTaïl  Ltl'i^îl^-^^^^    ''?"«'  »"d  no     ' 
home  again,  I  winder  ?  "  ^     "^°  ^^^'^  ^'^^^  «^  Saltmarsh 
'*This  house  is  to  let  ?"  ,, 


/ 


"-lbegyoifr^«fdon;I  hâve  startled y<W,. V^^ 


.ir 


'■ft0\ 


^1 


^^^^i'%i..-->.t%'%  ^.%  4<**'*-^^' 


Vir- 


,  ..-,-  ^,,  y.,-.-.;j^t,  ■"■^y-.-i;^ 


«. 


■rtj-;. 


12 


yOAN  KENNEDY' S  SrhRY, 


I  hâve  been  hère  foc  some  titne  loioking  at  this  hoiise.    I  see 
itis  to  let." 

I  stepped  back  and  looked  àt  her,^too  much  surprïsed  for 
a  moment  to  speak.  To.  meet  a  siranger  at  Saltmdrsh,  in 
the  twilight  of  a  bitter  February  iday,  was  a  marvel  indeed. 
f  .1  stood  and  looked  at  her  ;  and  I  thought  tben,  as  I  tyiùk 
now,  as  I  vi^ill  think  to  the  last  day  of  my  life,  that  I  saw  one 
ofthe  moalj  beautiful  faces  on  which  the  sun  ever  shorie,  j 
_M  I  hâve  sàid  she  was  a  Woman — a*girl  would  hâve  been  the  • 
mter  word^  whatever  her  âge  might  hâve  been,  she  did  nqt 
look  a  daj»  over  sevpnteen.  She  was  not  tall,  and  she  was 
very  slender  j  that  mzy  hkve  given  her  that  peculiatly  childish 
look' — I  am  a  tall  young  woman,  and  she  would.  not  hâve  ' 
reached  ray  shouldeV.  A  dress  of  black  silk  trailed  the 
ground,  a  ^ort  jacket  of  iinest  ^al  wrapped  her,  a  muff  of 
seal  held  her  hands.  A  hood  of  black,  velvet  was  on  her 
héad,  and  out  of  this  rrçh  hood  her  richer  beauty  shone  upon 
me,  a  new  révélation  of  how  lovely  it  is  possible  for  a  wonian 
to  be.  Yearà  hâve  corne  and  gone  since  that  evening,  but 
the  wpnderful  face  that  looked  at  me  that  February  twrlight, 
for  the  first  time,  is  before  me  at  this  moment,  as  vividly  as 
,  'then.  Two  grcat,  tawny  eyes,  with  a  certain  wildness  in 
their  light,  a  skin.of  pearl,  a  red  rnouth  like  a  çhild's,  a  lon^ 
forehead,  a  stfaight  nose,  a  cleft  çhin,  the  gleam  of  small, 
white  teeth,  rise  before  me  like  a  vision,  and  I  understand 
how  hien,  from  the  days  of  Sarason  the  Strong,  hâve  lain^ 
^owh  life  and  horior,  and  their  soul's  salvation,  for  jûst  such 
won^en  as.  this.  ^urely  a  strange  visitant  tQ  the  house  that 
wouldn't  let,  and  in  the  last  HoUr  of  the  day. 

AU  this  in  a  moment  of  time,  while  we  stand  and  face 
(»ch  other.  Then  the  soft  voice  Speaks  again,  with  a  touch 
of  impatient  annoyance  in  its  tone: 

"  I  beg  you'r  pardon.     You  heard  me  ?    This  hovse  is  to 
/let?'\   .. 

I  point  t<>  the  sign^  to  the  legend  and  inscriptiori- affixed 
to  the  gâte,  and  read  ifstoically  aloud  :  <*This  house  to 
be  let."  * 

"  Evidently  my  ladv  is  nqt  used  tb  l>eing  kept  waitiylîg^"  I 
-riiink,  **  wfaorôei- she  18." — ^— — — — ^ — —  ^^^  ^ 


/ 


7t>^iV  kENNBDY^S  STORY. 


13 


"  Yes,  yes,  f  see  that,"  she  says,  still  impatieotly  ;  "  there    * 
M  no  one  liviDg-in  ft al  pi<esent,  is  there  ?"  '    "    , 

\  -".AÏadaW,"  I  say,  briefly,  "«©  one  has  Uved  there  foi 
eight  years."  ^^    , 

The  wondeiful  tawny  black  ey(*8,:almost  orange  in  some 
lights,  and  jyhose  lilçe  I  hâve  never  seen  but  in  on^^jather 
face,  dilate  a  httle  as   they  turn  from   me   to    the  dead.         ' 
silent  house. 

"Wliy?"  sheasks.       ,  r  . 

I  shrugged  ray  shoulders.  \  ^, 

"  Nee4  one  ask  that  question,  madame,  after  looking  at     "      * 
the  house  ?    Who  would  care  to  live  in  soionely,  so  lost  a%, 
place  as  that?"  ~  \.j  r, 

"  /  wpuld.     No  one  '^rould  êver  think  of  coming  here.*^        *^ 

She  made  the  jinswer  alniost  linder  her  breath,  more  tp      l 
herself  than  to  me,  her  pale  face  turn^  toward  the  house.  " 
.^ts  pafllor  struck  me  now,  not  tjie  pallor  of  ilî  health,  or  of 
natural  complexion,  but  such  filèd  yhitenes»,  as  some  ex- 
traordmary  terror  may  once  io  a  lifetime  blanch  a  h^man  face. 

"  No  one  would  çver  .think  of  côming  hère,"  I  repeated, 
mwardly.  "  I^ould  think  not  indeed.  Are  you  in  hiding 
then,  my  beautiful  young  lady,  and  afraid  of  being  found' 
out  ?  You  are  lovelier  than  anything  out  of  a:  frame.  You 
are  one  of  the  rich  and  elect  bf  the  earth,  or  you  would  not 
be  dressed  like  that,  but  who  are  you,  and  what  are  you  do-"^  • 
mg  Rère  alone  and  at  this  hour?" 

'fjejast  red  light  of  the  sunset  had  entirely  faded  away^ 
Cold,  g%,  and  overcast  the  yintry  sky  spfead«bove  us  like 
a  pall,  and  over  Cape  Diamond^  with  its  citadel  crown, 
Bwept  the  icy  wind  from  the  fr6«éH  St  Lawrence.  One  or 
two  white  flakes  came  siftîngdown  from  the  fast  drifting  sky  ' 
— nigbt  and  storm  were  fallingtogether,,and  it  was  still  half 
a  mile  to  my  home.  t  , 

"  If  you  désire  àny  infop^ation  abont  this  place,  madame,'^  * 
I  said. /'  you  had  better  apply  to  Mr.  Barteahx,«No.x-  Stj  . 

j  u  Sf5««^'  Québec;  he  is  the  présent  owner.     It  is  to  let,  ■ 
Wd  hf        ^^  ^^""^  ^lad  of  a  tenant.    Good-evening." 
-^°ig?^\ "P  JefejhftdH  JiQt  cveii'segm  tahave  \^yu 
wie  st<K)d.  her  hands  in  her  muff,  her  eyesr  fixed  w^jùi 


4 


.*-««,..._ 


I^^t^^^^i^i»^-^'  ^,- ..\  J  \.  >S^     t^l^XH  ti^^l^ii^^    , 


'U 


'% 


> 


i-»Mv> 


14 


yOAA    KENNEDY"  s  S  TORY. 


:i( 


strangely  |s(6mbre  intensity  on ,  tjie  blank  wooden  wall,  hei 
^  profile  gleaming  cold  and  white  in  the  steely  twilight     I 
ïcnow  littk^  of  passion  or  despair,  but  surely  it  was  niost  pas- 
siônate  despair  I  réad  in  those  iixed,  sightfess  eyes. 

I  turned  and  left  Her.     L,was  interested  of  course,  but  it 

would  not  do,  to  stand  niooning  hère  and  let  nigbt  overtake 

me.     Once,  as  I  hurried  along  the  deserted  road,  I  looked 

back.     The  small  lonely  figure  Still  stood  as  I  had  left  it, 

/    motionless,  a  black  speck  ag»inst  the  chili  darkness  of  the 

'  ^intrv  sky.  \ 

"  &)inething  wrong  there,"  I  thought  ';  "  I  wonder  who  she 

is  and  what  bas  bfdught  her  hère.     None  of  the  officers' 

wives  or  daughters^ — I  bave  seen  ail  of  them  at  the  major's. 

One  thing  is  certain,  Mr.  Barteaux  will  never  rent  Saltmarsh 

"to  a  slip  of  a  girl  Hke  that."     - 

And  then  the  inysterious  young  lady  and  ail  connected 
with  her  slipped  froni  my  niind,  for  the  red  light  from  niy 
mother's  cottage  streamed  far  afield,  and  thé  ill  tidings  I  was 
bringing  home  filled  my  whole  thoughts. 

In  this  strangé  record  which  it  becomes  my  duty  to  write, 

a  few  words  of  myself  must  be  said,  and  mày  as  well  be  said 

hère  and  done  with.     I  was  Joan  Kennedy  then,  and  am 

Joan  Kennedy  still.  .  1  was  sevén-and-twenty  years  of  âge, 

and  the  sole  support  of  a  feeble  old  mother  and  a  sister  of 

twelye.    My  mother  who  had  been  agoverness  inheryouth, 

and  in  her  native  city  of  (Glasgow,  had  educated  me  consid- 

erably  above  the  station  I  filled,  giving  me  a  very  thorough 

English  éducation,  and  teaching  me  to  speak  French  with  a 

fine  Scottish  accent.     At  my  father's  death,  ten  years  before, 

I  went  Qut  to  service,  and  in  service  I  had  remained  ever 

*    since.     This  night,  as  I  hastened  homeward  through   the 

snowy  darkness,  my  errand  was  to  tell  my  mother  and  sister 

that  I  had  lost  ray  place,  and  had  no  présent  prospect  of 

being  able  to  ^et  another.     That  isjoan  Kennedy's  wholç 

.  pàst  and  paesent  lifetory,  so  far  e&you  need  know  it. 

'   .    The  dafkniess  was  ail  white  with  whirling  snow  as  I  opene^J 

Wie  cottage  dbOF  and  entered.    AU  was  bright,  and  cosy  hère 

*A  large  red  fire  bviri)ed  on  the  hearth,  the'tca  table  wa« 

read;  a  iJwle  TOUD-noied^lê^tw^êcT  ifs  îàcéâse^àlôf^ 


'^ 


1       -t^é^' .  4 


yOAN  KiNNEDY^S  STORY. 

and  aloft,  my  mother  sat  knitting  in  the  ingle  nook,  and  mv 
pretty  sister  Jess.e  sang,  as  she  stitched  away,  TCt^l  ^ 

At  sight  of  the.r  snow-powdered  visiter  both^dropped  theS 
work  m  amaze.  "ff^"  «."cir 

dr;%a;P"'^^  ""^  ti.„eof  nfghtW  a&    T/y'^ 

«Who  is  likely  to  be  withme,  little  Jess?    Yes,  I  am 
alone  ;  and  you  are  likely  to  hâve  more  of  my  delêctabS 

Mother  dear,  I  hâve  lost  ôiy  place." 
"Joan!"  /F   v-c. 

"I  am  not  to  blarae,  mother,  believé  that  Only  (it  is 
not  a  pleasant  thing  to  tell)  Mrs.  Englehart  has  tàken  itSnto 
Aat  supremely  foohsh  head  of  hers  to  be  jealous  of  me^f 
poor  plam  Joan  Kennedy!  The  major  a  kind  old  sJ. 
has  spoken  a  fnendly  word  or  two  in  passing  and-behold 
Ae  resuit!  Don't  let  us  talk  about  it.  1^1  start  out  °o 
morrow  mornmg  and  search  ail  Québec,  and  get  a  situation 
Ukracup'ofîel"^"^™''^-     And  now.  Mistrfss  Jessie,'rlî 

«hnniîl'tf'^  ^^^  ""^  '^f '^^  *"^  ''^""e*'  îaughing  for  fear  I 
should  break  down  and  cry,  and  took  my  sett.    As  I  did  so 
there   came  a  loud  knock   at  the  door.     So  loud    thS 
Jessienearlydroppedthesnub-nosedteapot.  ' 

Good  gracions,  Joan  I  who  is  this  ?  " 

p«  r'r  ^?  ^°  *?^  '^°°'"  ^"^  °P^"ed  it— then  fell  back  aghast 
^^lufti.  !i"^  candlelight  streamed  fuU  across  the  &  of 
the  lady  I  had  seen  at  the  House  to  Let 

"May  I  comein?" 
.^Xî^'î  "?  '^^  ^°'  permission.     She  walked  in  past  me 

r.ff  «f  ^     "*  ''^^  the  fast-falhng  snow.    She  drew  her  hands 
to  the  blaze  two  small  white  hands,  ail  twinkling  îith  rings 


à 


a  ,.^„  1    •■  .  ^  o~""'6  "•■   •■•"o  uo^Anug  apparirton. 

m»J^f      'f^'^  anf  moùth  agape,  and  my^n  hear^ 
muât  confess,  fluttered  ncrvously  as  I  looked!    Who  wai 


fcéii,*;.<  ,;,fj 


f:.:4'My''''.:i 


i6 


yO^iV  KENNEDY* s  STORY. 


ik 


r 


.,^ 


she,  and  what  did  she  want  ?  For  fuUy  a  minute  she  stood 
staring  at  the  fire,  then  feeling  that  sonie  one  jnust  say  some- 
thing,  I  took  hèart  of  grâce,  and  said  iu 

"You  hâve  béen  caught  in  the  snow-storm,"  I  ventured, 
drawing  near.  ."I  was  afraid  you  would.  Will  you  please 
.tositdown?" 

She  took  no  notice  of  the  profifered  politèness.  The 
tawny  eyes  turned  from  the  fire  to  my  face. 

"Will  you  tell  me  your  name ? "  was  the  strange  young 
lady's  abnipt  question. 

"  Joan  Kennedy." 

"  You'"1iré  a  single  woman  ?  " 


"I  am,  madame. 


"  You  live  hère— in  this  bouse,  with- 
stare  at  mother  and  Jessie. 


M 


a  pause  and  a 


As  a  rule 


"  Joan 
"With 


'With  my  mother  and  sister — ^yes,  at  présent. 
Llive  àt  service  in  Québec." 

"  In  service  ?  "    Another  pause  and  a  stare  at  me. 
f  Kennedy,  would  you  live  with  mgf" 
[      This  was  a  leading  question  ^th  a  vengeance. 
!  you,  madame  ?"  I  gasped. 

"  With  me.  I  want  a  maid,  a  companion,  what  you  will. 
Wages  are  no  objeçt— to  a  trustworthy  person.  I  will  give 
anything  she  asks.  I  am  ail  alone — ail  alone — "  her  lips 
trembled,  her  voice  died  away  ;  "  ail  alone  in  the  world.  I 
hâve  had  great  trouble  and  I  want  some  quiet  place  to  live 
.  —some  quiet  person  to  live  with  me,  for  awhile.  I  am  go 
mg  to  tal#  that  house  to  let.  I  was  overtaken  by  the  storm, 
jusf  now,  and  followed  you  hère,  instead  of  going  back  to  the 
hôtel.  I  like  your  face — ^you  look  as  thôugh  you  may  hâve 
had  trouble  yourself,  and  so  could  feel  for  others.  I  wish 
jrou  would  come  and  live  wità  me.  I  hâve  told  you  I  am 
m  dreadful  trouble—"  she  paused,  a  sort  of  anguish  coming 
over  her  face  :  "  I  hâve  lost  my  husban'd,"  she"  said  with  a 
preat  gasp,  and  covering  her  face  with  both  hands  broke  out 
into  such  a  dreadful  crying  as  I  never  heard  or  saw  before. 

"  Oh,  poor  dear  I  "  said  my  mother.     For  me,  I  stood  stjU 

and  looked  at  her.  J\^t  could  J  Miy— what  'could  I  dol 

JJfêàf  soBs  sbook  fer  from  bead  to  (ooA  À  widow  1 1  glanced 


*•': 


-A» 


'jîl 


'^'-:i^^ààmjL::.'j 


.gH^BWW^^WyypHjffy^  • 


70^^  KENNEDY' s  STÙRY. 

at  her  left  hand.  Yes,  there  among  the  diamonds  gleamed  thaï 
pla.n  band  of  gold  that  has  brouiht  infinité  blifs  Tmi^ery 
nl^ï.  Al  "'T'i'-V^.^'^S  ""«•  It  lasted  not  twJ 
looked  up:  "'"'^^  '^"  '^"'^"^  ^'^^y  '^^^^  *^*^«  ^"d 

J'i^^r™^  H^''-  ^°!:^°°'"  ^^«  ^'^>  "as  I  tell  you,  I 

^Hâ^r-'^  *'^™^  '°  Q"^^"*=  yesterday,  I  saw  that  house 

advert  sed,  and  so  came  to  see  it.  •  It  suits  me,  and  I  wiU 

ake  1    for  the  next  six  months  at  least.     Some  one  must 

hve  wuh  me  there     I  likayour  looks.     WiU  you  corne"» 

Would  I  corne?  would  I  live  in  the  House  tici  Let?  I 
stood  gaspmg-the  proposai  was  like  a  cold  douche-it  took 
my  breath  away. 

emphatically  this;  «and  in  advance.    It  is  a  lonely  phcé  ^ 
it  smts  me  the  better  for  that,  and  you  don't  look  Hke  a 
young  woman  afraid  of  bogies.      If  you    wo^t   come," 
haughtily  «of  course  I  shall  find  some  one  else."  ' 

You  .;;:i  w  "°*  ^^^"«5^»"  I  gasped  ;  "  -i^s  ail  so  suddcn. 
You  must  let  me  thmk  it  over.     I  will  tell  you  to-morrow." 
lît^fh  ?T^  changed-she  lifted  a  face  tb  mine  that  was 
!:tped^^^''  ^^'^     "^  ^^''  of  a  chUd-she  held  up  tw^ 
"  ^^  corne,"  she  said  piteously  ;  «  I  will  pay  you  anything 

I^Z^^^'^IJ  °°^  ^*"*  ^"^  "^^  q"î^*^°r  awhile,  and  awaf 
from  everybody.  I  am  ail  alone  in  the  world.  1  hâve  S 
luy  husband— lost  him— lost  him— " 

"  The  lady  is  going  to  faint  1  "  screamed  Tessie. 

.  her  or  the  "dreadful  trouble"  of  which  she  spoke    had 

-w'^"/"  ^T'  f>"  «^r^  «nsteadUy  to  and  fro,tî2 
words  jiyipg  on  her  lips,  and  I  caught  her  is  she  fell. 
.   bo  it  waS  that  the  first  tenant  of  the  House  to  Let  came 

Sat  Zr        '  ^"'^  ^'^  "^  '"■"'  '^  ^««  ^'  nt^y  fr^ 


■>>/ 


1         -  •* 


CHAPTER  II. 


/ 


A  WOMAN  WTTH   A   SECRET. 

1RS.  GORDON  did  notleave  our  cottage  that  right 
■  —did  not  leave  it  for  two  wliole  weeks,  and  then 
the  housQthat  wôuldn't  let  was  let  at  last,and  Sait- 
tnarsh  had  a  tenant. 
'  It  would  be  of  little  use  at  this  late  day  to  détail  ail  the 
arguments  she  used  to  win  me  (çi^ber  attendant  and  com- 
pamon— the  most  irrésistible  argiÉteent  of  ail  was  wages, 
treble,  fourfold  what  I  had  ever  earned  before,  and  paid  in 
advance.  Of  her  and  her  story  I  had  very  serious  doubts, 
but  beggars  must  not  be  choosers.  I  took  her  money  and 
became  her  paid  companion. 

For  hours  that  night,  after  mother  and  Jessie  were  in  bed, 
I  sat  beside  Mrs.  Gordon,  listening  to  the  story  she  told  of 
herself.,^  Brief;  vague,  and  unsatisfactory  to  a  degree,  that 
story  was.  She  had  been  an  orphan  from  childhood.  She 
was  not  wealthy,  but  she  had  sufficient  ;  great  trouble  had 
suddenly  corne  upon  her,  and  she  had  lost  her  husband  after 
four  months  of  wedded  life.    That  was  ail. 

"  Lost  your  husband  !  "  I  repeated,  curiously,  looking  at 
her.     "  Do  you  mean  that  your  husband  is  dead  ?  "    ■ 

A  simple  and  natural  question,  surely;  but  her  face,  pale 
before,  tumed  of  a  dead  wHiteness  from  brow  to  chin. 

"  Dead  of  course,"  she  answered,  huskily  ;  "  for  pity's 
sake,  dbn't  ask  me  questions.  It  is  only  a  week  ago,  and  I 
cannot  bear  it.  Only  a  week,  and  it  seems  like  a  century. 
And  to  thmk— to  think  ôf  ail  the  long,  lonely,  empty  years 
that  are  to  corne  I  Never  to  hear  his  voice,  never  to  see  hifl  • 
/ace  more  I  " 

And  then  she  broke  down  agato  aod  wept    oh.  hou 

wepi  !    My  heart  was  fiiU  of  compassion,  and  yet—onîy 


.  \4  / 


0  * 


;  ,4*' 


A    IVOMAN  WITH  A  SECRMT^,  ,q 

Suee?storvon.h  f  '^«^l^J  "ch,  young  and  beautiful.  A 
^  Su    •  ^  °°  ''^^  ^^^^  ®f  ^'— a  very  queer  storv  indeed 

had  been  a  plam  young  person,  I  believe  ten  p3s  a  week 
wouidnot  hâve  tempted  me  to  take  up  with  her  andiurv 
f^^Jr  "^S^^f  ^f^   B"t  her  wonderful  Sy  fdr? 

tS  ^:dT4r  '"  ^°'^'^  '^^^  "^"^  "^^'  --  ^--t  -y  1^" 

"  And  if  that  face  can  make  a  fool  of  you,  Toan  mv  dear  »' 
I  said  to  myself,  as  I  went  to  bed,  "what  awfil  Lvo^if 
mustrnakeamongmankindl  no^y~i:Zit^^r 
Mr.  Gordon  to  d.e  and  leave  it,  anà  how  desperateîy  fond 
she  must  hâve  been  of  him,  to  be  sure  !"  l^™^y  »o°<» 

r*.o^„»"K^'"  îf'  ""^  stay  hère  until  the  house  yonder  is 
ready,"  she  said  next  morning,  with  the  air  of  one  nSt  Sed 
to  being  refused.     «  I  dislike  hotels-people  stare  so     T^ 

It  was  curions  to  see  her  with  her  lovelv  face  her  f^^a^r.* 
dress.  her  diamond  rings,  and  her  S  flowing  hS^S 
Strange  y  out  of  place  in  our  small,  bare,  iiome  v  hon^e'  T 
hardly  know  whether  she  should  haVe  stlVed  or  not  but'oJ 

K''  totVl  \^^'  ^°'/  consent'ed't?a7;h'e%r 
posed.     To  take  the  house  for  her,  to  see  it  furnished  to 

of  s^h?  '^^"^^'^'  ^"^''^  '''''  ^^««^  '^^P'  absoEroS 

^nî^Jk^^'ti— ^'f  ^«f"  **  ^^'«^•^  I  '^ent  to  Mr.  Barteaux. 
and  abruptly  informed  him  I  Ma.tenant  for  the  House  to 

re^^^n^J^r*'-^  '^'^'    "*  ^"-  Gordon.      Any 
^vïwith  hen"    ""  ""^S^  m,  and  I  am  engaged  tl 

«  Hess  my  soûl!»  said  Mr.  Barteaux.     "You  don't  sav 
SilyfjTjî.'^'  '^''    ^  '^^^^  Jady,  eh?    How  «;:.VS 


SA 


Mi  m.,«>fl  ar8%,^  baif;.*:SrTS.^'i^2d 


i^it^j*.4^'^  ■ 


«5b*a^^àj 


A   WOl^AN'  WITH  A    SECRET. 


No  family,  sir.    Quite  a  young  widow.    You  must  close  \ 
the  bargain  with  me,  Mr.  Bar-teaux  ;  her  loss  is  récent,  she 
■  .  is-  in  trouble,  and  doesn't  feel  like  transacting  business  her- 
^elf.     There  are  no  références;  instead,  she  will  pay  in  àd-, 
vance  if  you  choose."  .    ' 

We  closed  the  bargain  there  and  then  ;  and  that  very  day 
Saltraarsh  was  thrown  open  to  the  sunshine  and  free  winds 
of  Heaven.  What  an  odd,  awesome  feeling  it  gave  me 
to  go  with  my  mysterious  liew  mistress  through  the  gruesome 
apartments,  silent  and  forsaken  so  long.  Four,  out  of  the 
ten  rooms  the  house  contained,  were  chosen  to  be  fumished 
and  fitted  up,  papered,  painted,  whitewashed,  carpeted,  cur- 
tained.  AU  fell  to  me,  9.nd  ail  was  done  in  two  brief  weeks, 
and  lyell  done,  though  I  say  it,  and  Mrs.  Gordon  and  Joan 
Kennedy,  it  was  known  to  ail  Québec,  were  domesticatcd  at 
Saltniarsh. 

I  wonder  novi^  as  I  sit  hère  and  look  back  at  that  strange 
time,  that  even  poverty  could  hâve  tempted  me  to  endure 
the  Iffe  I  led  ail  those  dreary  months.  The  listless,  lonely 
days  spent  in  reading  or  rambling  through  the  empty,  écho-  , 
ing  rooms,  the  long  awesome  nights  when  the  winds  held 
high  carnival  without  and  the  rats  high , jinks  within.  No 
bne  ever  came  to  the  house,  except  s^  stout  Frenchwoman, 
who  did  our  washing  and  gênerai  drudgery,  coming  every 
morning  and  going  every  night.  For  me,  my  position  was  a 
sinécure,  nothing  to  do,  and  treble  wages  for  doing  it,  but 
the  hardest  work  i^or  ail,  that  I  ever  did  in  my  life. 

And  my  mistress  1  Well,  the  days,  and  the  wéeks,  and 
the  months  went  by,  and  she  was  as  great  a  mystery  as  ever. 
Wheré  she  had  come  from,  how  long  she  meant  to  remain, 
whither  she  intended  going,  were  ail  sealed  secrets  to  me. 
She  never  wrote  letters,  she  never  received  any.  SJie  could 
Dot  hâve  been  much  môre  dead  to  ail  the  world  outside  our 
wooden  walls  if  she  had  been  in  her  shroud  and  coffin. 

She  spent  the  heavy,  aimless  days  sitting  mostly  at  her 
chamber  window — a  dark-draped,  slender  figure,  a  dreary, 
lovely  face,  two  great,  hopeless  eyes,  a  total  wreck  of  life. 

'Story  of  her  life,  whatever  it  hod  been,  no  common 
,  be  sure,  was  ended  fof  the  time  ;  the  pla/was  over,  thelig^ts 


■ST- 


i  '  *V_.W'. 


■»  j'-'j 


^ 


m.:,i.xf' 


-<    IVOMAN  iVITH  A  SECRET.  '      j, 

out,  and  notliing  left  but  to  sit  and  look  at  the^curtain. 
t7TZ?°''^^''^  ^"^^-T^^  °^^^«  ^'^°"g  so^t,  of  the  silent, 
SS  iSèî  ''°'"*"  "^     something  on  her  mind.  a  wornan 

Two  things  I  discovered— only  two.     Onfe,  that  her  hus- 

^°.  Z  Ta  ^''^^^^*  1"^"^*^^'  ^'^^^  «^^  had  run  awa^ 
froa  him  and  was  hiding  hère,  m  horrible  dread  of  his  evei 
finding  her  out.  Secondly,  that  in  spite  of  this  running  awav 
and  this  constant  terror,  she  stiU  lovèd  hira,  with  a  pisfon. 
ate  and  most  despairing  love.  t>«»>jwu 

I  had  gone  into^her  room  one  night,  anS  found  her  sittinir 
holding  a  picture  before  her,  and  gazing  on  it  as  if  entraBeef 
It  was  her  principal  occupation.     I  had  often  foundTer  S 
before,  but  the  picture  itself  I  had  never  seen.     To-night 
however,  she  talled  me  to  her  in  her  abrupt  wav  - 

"Joan,"  she  said,  "corne  hère." 

She  had  been  crying,  I  could  see-silently  and  miseraWy. 
I  went  and  looked  over  her  shoulder  at  the  picture. 

Photography  was  in  its  infancy  in  those  days— every  £amily 
had  not  its  picture  gallery.     This  was  a  daguerréotype— the  ^ 
portrait  of  a  young,  dashing-looking  and  rather  handsome 
man.    A  beardless  and  boyish  face,  yet  a  very  manly  one, 
lookmg  up  at  you  wuh  frankly  smiling  eyes.  ? 

"  It  13  ail  I  hâve  left,"  she  s^id,  with  treniulous  lips.  «  I 
mil  never^ee  him  again.  I  loved  him  and  I  hâve  spoUed 
h  s  whole  hfe.  It  would  hâve  been  better  for  him  he  had 
died  than  ever  looked  in  my  face." 

"  Indeed,"  was  my  rather  stupid  answer.  But  I  was  used 
to  her  extravagant  talk;^  not  mudh  affected  by  it.  «  He 
is  a  fnend  of  yours,  madame  ?" 

a  ifcîîff  lî°!f  ^  ï  ^u  '  P^''*"'*'  *°^  ^^^"^  ^^^  ^^  the'-e  <l*wned 
a  light  that  made  her  beauty  radiant. 

" He  is  my  husband I ".she  answered. 
I  drew  back  andjlookeà  at  her-aghast,  I  must  confess. 
Your  husband  1     I  repeated.    «Oh— a^ox your  husband 
you  mean  ?    You  told  me  he  was  dead."      ,  ' 

^^    Alive  anitwell;  and  though  I  should  livé  to  ht  a 
iMWdred,  I  may  never  see  hig  face  agâin.    Never  agat»  ;  and 


•f 


•i 


1?,, 


-m 


,•■  I 


22 


4>  WOMAN  WITH  A  SECRET. 


SA, 
•A- 


there  are  times  wrtien  I  would  lay  down  my  very  life  only  tQ 
look  upon  him  once  more." 

"  You  love  him  and — he  has  left  you ?"  I  ventufed. 

"I  love  him — and  I  left  him.  I  love. him  with  ail  my 
heart,  and  I  hâve  fled  from  him,  and  buried  myself  hère  for 
fear  of  him.  I  wonder  I  don'ttgo  mad,  or  die.  Once  I 
thought  I  would  without  him  ;  but  somehow  life  drags  ou 
and  on,  and  one  is  a  coward,  and  afraid  to  end  it  one's  selC 
He  loved  me  once,  Joan — ah,  dear  Heaven,  yes  1  he  loved 
me  and  made  me  his  wife  ;  and  dow,  and  now,  Joani  if  ever 
he  finds  me,  I  bplieve  he  will  take  my  life." 

I  looked  bacK  at;  the  frank,  fair,  boyish  face. 

"He  take  your  lifel"  I  said;  "that  bright-faced  boyl 
No,  Mrs.  Gordon,  murderers  don't  look  like  that." 

"  He  is  the  truest,  the  noblest,  the  bravest  of  men,  a  loyal 
friend  and  a  gallant  gentleman."  * 

"  And  yet  his  wife  runs  away  from  him,  and  says  if  ever 
they  meet  he  will  take  her  life."  \  ^ 

She  scarcely  seemed  to  heed^me.  SHe  laid  her  head  on 
her  folded  arms  as  thougl>  she  never  cared  to  lift  it  again. 

"  Ah  1  let  me  alone,"  she  said.  "  You  know  npthing 
about  it.  If  I  could  but  die  and  make  an  end  of  it  ail  1 
Only  this,  Joan,"  she  looked  up  suddenly,  swift,  dark  terror 
in  her  eyes  ;  "  I  dreamed  last  night  he  was  searching  for  me 
— that  he  was  hère.  He  came  and  stood  before  me,  st^9>:y» 
and  terrible,  holding  my  death-warrant  in  his  hand  1  Dbn't 
let  hdm  come  !  don't  let  any  one  come  !  If  ever  we  çieet, 
I  believe  in  my  soûl  he  will  kill  me." 

Was  Mrs.  Gordon  going  mad  ?  that  was  the  very  serious 
question  uppermost  in  my  thoughts  when  I  went  to  bed  that 
night,  and  for  many  nights  after.  It  was  a  very  qaeer  and 
uncomfortable  affair  altogether,  and  the  sooner  î  sot  out 
of  it  the  better  ;  and  just  as  I  was  l^eginning  to  tnink  of 
tenderinç  my  résignation,  behold  the  dimax  ail  at  once 
came  of  itself.  ' 

March,  April  and  May  had  passed — it  was  the  close  of 

June.     I  had  gone  into  the  city  ope  afternoon  for  car  weekly 

store  of  groceries,  finished  my  purchases,  and,  baskçt  on  arm, 

=ïrâs"^feg;  home.    Myiray  tedBp^Strl^ 


\ 


1*^: 


,^-^i-i  -*- 


l^^^&^âyiï^ 


.fà^lir  V., 


7:-»?TOr»---j!jwf»ar»-)7f*Wrrw^**fî 


^-' 


'm 


t;t,*«i'* 


,-^>- 


fVOJIfAJSr  WITH  A  èsCRET. 


passing  the  office  of  Mr.  Bartean»  t  »-     i.-      . 

that  stranger,  and  with  one  «eaT  hn«n        P'"     "^  '°°^  «« 

mouth.     #or  it  was  the  oXEf  ?J."^  ^^""^  ^^  ^  «"X 

Gordon's  husband.     «  ThXur  and  fhf  "''"'■^"  '^^^  ^^ 

Neither  saw  me     I  rll^A  l         *!  "^'^  '^^'"^  corne  I  " 

Thesame.  beyonîdoubr  hesamTS  ^"A^^^^*^^  ^'^' 
and  haggard,  set  aad  stern  fhl  '  '^'^  *  difference~5om 
of  a  frafk,  hkppy  boy  S's'^a  re'^S  ^"^  '^  ''5«^'^<^  ^^^ 
straw  hat  was  pulled  Ô^Th^  ev^T  .    ''  ^««P^^^e  nran.    A 

was  buttoned  ut>4  soSieraK  ge£rT.°^^^*=^^' 
dent  at  a  élance.  genueman,  that  was  evi- 

had  fled,  was  hère    "  wauïd  ^f^""?"^  '^'»  "!">"•  «he 
half  an  hour  was  ai  Saltoa«h         ^  "'™'"  "^^-i'  "d  » 

«■df:.aSfwtr„:i'l'â'a?;v;u^*-^^^^^ 

co»t  rsrwlâthS'at  toesTiad^f  ""^t"  J°«  "«^ 
«.os.  „„f„r,„„,.e„,  wL  oT^fte  S  ."■>,r  '^^ 
well  where  to  find  h*.r ««  ♦!.     •        ."'"es.     i  knew  prettv 

<:on«ng  rapidiy  toward  me  at  a  swLlng  pace    '^  °''*'"'^*'' 

hJïtre.^'»-^--^ed.sopir^^^^^^^^ 

shicte^^hTi^^^^^ 

late.     I  turned  and  fled  heaSonï  7^  ^"u  ^'"^^  ^*'0"«  of 
Path,  stiUcalIinghern^e     fch^^       *^«  stêfep  hiUside 


fast-flowing  water,  M^s.  Gordor  wau!ed.     ^  ^   "«  **  ^""^ 


^ 


"^ 


\" 


■»." 


mf^m»im*' 


fC»    '*> 


f^- 
* 


■u^v-' 


'^À 
^ 


24 


^    IVOMAN  WITH  A  SECRET, 


She  paused  in  her  slow  walk,  and  turàed  to  me  in  wondet 
at  my  break-neck  aescent 

■    How  beautifal  she  was  1  even  in  that  suprême  moment,  I 
remember  that  was  my  first  thought 

"For  pit/s  sake,  flyl"  I  cried  out;  "fly  at  once.  Hé 
ishere!" 

She  laid  both  her  hands  suddenly  over  her  heart.  Across 
her  face  there  flashed  the  electric  light  of  à  great  and  sud- 
den  joy. 

*♦  Who  ?  "  she  said,  almost  in  a  whisper. 

"  Your  husband,  the  man  whose  picture  yoiàshowed  me. 
Fly  at  once  if  you  are  afraid  of  him.  I  saw\  him,  I  tell 
you  he  is  coniing.    Oh,  Heaven  ! — he  is  hère  l  " 

I  fell  back  in  consternation.  Yes,  he  had  foUôwed  -  me  ; 
he  was  coming  down  the  path,  he  waé  hère. 

I  turned  to  my  mistress.  Would  she  faint?  wôuld  she 
fly?    Neither. 

Who  is  to  understand  men's^  wives  I  Terror  was  there,  in 
that  wild,  white  face,  it  is  troe,  but  over  and  above  it  ail, 
such  rapture  as  I  never  before  saw  in  the  face  of  man  or 
woman.  She  loved  him  and  she  saw  him  again-^all  was 
said  in  thaf. 

He  walked  down  t^e  path.  She  came  a  step  forward, 
with  that  transfigured  face,  and  held  oiit  tp  him  both  armé 
with  an  éloquent  cry  : 

"  Gordon  1    Goidonl" 


\ 


•*    ! 


WiaS^^VL 


"      i.'"  '"*'*';^  'V"  ■ 'si;  <(.  » 


r 


\  >. 


> 


CHAPTER  III. 


.«^ 


ind  wait  wilh  bated  bra°h  anH  hi«''''ï^^^ 

gf  hearing  has  become  Hniii?    .^       u  ^^^^^*  yo"*"  sensé 

able  to-  hear.  ail  I  ha^tosI^thZ^'  '°^^\  ^^^  ^i»  be 
detain  you  long  andTo ,  n.ii      f' ^  you  stand.     I  will  not 

Butletmôtell  vou  thic-  rf„^?.u  i^  ,^"  ^^^^  >s  passed. 
^hat  memorabSt  fi;em^^^^       «''^  Play»d  eavesdropper 

yoii  did,  if  ï  had  found  yoïïeforeT^  V°"^^  "«'  ^^^  as  ' 

would  never  hâve  Hvèd  ?o  se/ Th  '^^•^"  ^  ^eturned,  you 
>oI  that  ever  walked  the  earth  I  tnT"'"^.   '^^^  ST^^'"* 

met  that  night  I  «roulH  1?,    k     ^**  ^een—if  you  ànd  I  had 

Ali  this  &id  ?n  a  3W^  «^^^^^^^  ^    ' 

*s  rio  worR'I^L  cl  fdL  ^^  '^"^  '^«••^f"»  «f  «ûch  hitred 


,v  ^^ 


•'?l 


wAv  ^,  a 


âwi  <r  '  j«  fc^  ''^.v,  Hfc  "'*v  s. 


.'   '  ■  'k 


f:\P 


j6 


TITE  DECRER  OE  DIVORCE. 


■-^ 


tmt- 


^'Spare  me,  Gordon,"  she  answered,  with  a  sobbing  cry. 

"  Spare  you  ?  "  he  répeated,  with  cold  scorn  ;  "  hâve  I 
not  said  so  ?  I  would  not  lift  a  iinger  to  harm  a  hair  of, 
your  head,  or  to  save  your  life  if  I  saw  you  drowoing  in  the 
river  yonder.  You  are  as  dead  to  me  as  though  I  had  gone 
hotiîe  and  strangled  you  that  eveptful  night.  The  madhess 
of  love  and,rage,  alike,  are  past  forever.  I  hâve  eut  you  off 
utterly  and  absolutely  from  my  life.  You  have'been  in  hiding 
hère,  they  tell  me,  in  daily  dread  of  yoiir  life  no  doubt. 
Let  us  end  ail  that.  ^  You  are  free  to  corne  and  go  wbére 
and  how  you  will.  Af^er  to-day  I  will  never  look  upon  your 
face  again  of  my  own  free  will,  alive  or  dead." 

She  gave  a  «hrill  cry,  like  a  cuîprit  under  the  lash,  her 
hands  still  held  out  to  him  iiidumb  agony. 

•*  I  hâve  not  eyen  come  to  Québec  now  in  search  of  you,"  > 
the  cold,  pitiless  voice  wenti,pn  ;  "don't  think  it.     I  came 
tô  visit  General  Forrest^jî'irationed  yonder  at  the  Citadel, 
before  leaving  thisàccursed  Canada  torever — accursed  since 
in  it  I  met  yçu." 

Her  outstretched  hands  went  up,  with  a  dull  moaning 
ROund,  and  coverèd  her  face. 

"  Would  you  care  tp  know  how  %  found  you  oui,  and  why^  I 
caine^"  he  slowly  went  oh.  "  Listen  :  Last  night  at  mess 
the  fellows  were  speaking  of  a  widow  lady,  a  most  Uiyster-- 
ious  widow  lady,  young  and  beautiful,  so  rumor  said,  -^o  hàd 
takeo  a  desolate  bld  house  in  a  -màrsh,  and  there  shpt  heii^> 
self  up,  hidden  from  mortal  man  and  light  pjf  day.  Het 
Bame  was  Mrs.  Gordon.  .  Where  she  caoie  fijÉtLjJÉfeaiphe 
was,  why  she  had  cxm^i^  man  could  t^^^^NBHJrar^^ 
name  was  uttered  I  knew  it  was  you.  ^J||^PR^K^°' 
yoii  fled  from  Toronto  you  fled  hère;  TcneW^K»  tneiost 
woman  who  had  been  my  wife  was  found;" 

Her  hands  dropped.     For  the  first  time  she  stood  upright 

^before  him  and  looked  him  fuU  in  the  face,  stung,  it  would 

iftto  tuming  at  bay  by  thèse  lait  words. 

^         beep  your  wife  1"  she  cried,  passionatdjr  ; 

wife,  Gordon  Caryll  1    Nothing,"  a  sort  of  cx- 

erthatl*^ 


*  -^i 


ctSM^îw 


^ 


M\  WT^t^'^fV-'^S: 


THE  DECRÈE   OF  DIVORCE. 

27 

minute  he  stood  silently  Jooking  at  her    a 
,  lips,  a  pitlless  trjutnph  itj  his  eyes 
fothing  car.  change  thât  ?  "  he  repeated  ;  '«  nofhînir  but 
,     f?    Well,  I  will  answer  Jhat  before  we  Dart      T  ^  » 
go  on     ï  knew  it  Waâ  you.  this  woma^  they  ÏÏed  of  .^^^^ 

lïpcffî  Jier  face  once  more,  for  the  lâsf  »m,»  „.,,i  .*^".'  '"""^ 
wH.,  .bere  was,  if  I  ca„,  i'„T,  txKiXaut  ,.' T'^lloT 
black  eyes,  its  stra  eht  nose  InH  cii,^,.  '^«^"i/i  u»  yeiiow- 
into  blin'd,  beso.«-d  &"•  T^e  dWvo°„r'ha„d°"W""" 
mond,  and  )et  me  look  at  J.on  ■•  *  *°''''  '^^- 

*  Gordon,  hâve  mercy  on  me.     I  love  youl  » 
Again  she  stretched  forth  her  hands  to  hini  with  thaf  «Jf 
cous  cry.     Aga,n  he  motioned  her  imperfousîj  rack  hU  ït 
set,  his  eyes  p.tiless,  his  face  like  stone  ^         '  '"'  ^'P' 

"Stand  stillJ»  heordered. 
She  ob'eyed.'  .  *  - 

.For  fully  two  minutes  this  strange  tableau  was  befnr*.  ™- 

fore  him,  her  lovely,  œloLs  faL  „pw5d  hl;:*=7„Cr' 
— young,  fair,  uiDOcent  to  su.  at  least     <;«  .!,„   !    j   ' 

t'â'/ofthTSa« /°  j"^,"'^Ki^-^ 


K 


^ 


/^ 


'm 


r- 


4 


'J? 


Ksi» 


Iff 


'i 


t.-     // 


28  THE  DECREE   OF  DIVORCE:' 

— do  you  know  it  ?  my  fatHer  has  disinhented  me — I  am  the 
laughingstock  of  ail  who  ever  knew  me.  I  look  back  and 
wonder  at  myj5(wn  infaUiation.  1  loved  you — I  trusted  you. 
Oh,  God!/'  he  cried  ont,  a  sp^sm  of  anguish  distOrting' his 
face  ;  "  1  f^ried  you — you  !  You  played  your  game  Well, 
you  and  Lovell.  It  was  your  trade  ;  and  with  such  afool 
as'I,  it  was  an  easy  game  enough.  But  you  had  causte  to 
fear,  and  you  knew  it — I  say  again  you  did  well  to  ^y.  I 
.  went  out  from  Lovell's  death-bed  a  madman — if  I  hadfound 
you  onmy  return,  by  the  light  al?ove  us,  I  would  hâve  mur- 
dered  you  !" 

She  shrank  back  from  him,  trerabling  with  pure  physical 
terror  now,  from  head  to  foot. 

"No  need  to  tremble — no  need  to  fear  now"  he  went  on, 
his  voice  losing  its  sudden  fury,  and  sinking  to  its  former 
cold  monotone  ;  "  I  hâve  told  you  ail  that  is  paist  and 
done  with.  But  before  we  part,  I  should  like  tô  heàr  once 
frotti  your  own  lips,  just  once  (not  that  I  doubt)  that  Major 
Lovell's  story  was  true." 
j  Her  only  answer  was  to  cower  still  farther  aw^y,  and 
with  a  great,  heart-wrung  sob,  to  bury  her  face  once  agaia 
in  her  hands. 

"Ah,  hide  it,"  he  said  bitterly  ;  "hide  it  forever  from  the 
sight  of  man — the  fairest,  falsest  facfe  everaiiade.  But  speaiK 
— if  such  lips  as  yours  can  speak  truth,  and  tell  me  that 
Lovell's  story  was  true." 

"  Gordon  !  hâve  mercy."  « 

"  Was  it  true  ?" 

"  I  loved  yoju,  Gordon  !  As  there  is  a  heaven  above  u», 
I  loved  you  with  ail  my  heart." 

He  half  laughed — even  in  that  moment. 

"  Your  heart— j/<7«rj  /    What  witty  things  are  said  by  ac- 
cident !     Never  mind  your  heart  or  your  love.      I  knuv 
what  both  are  worth.     Answer  my  question.  '  Was  Love 
itory  true.     One  word: — yes  or  no." 

"  Gordon,  I  was  faithful.    Oh  1  what  shall  \  say  to  him  to-~>' 

"  Was  it  true  ?    Yes  or  no  ?  " 
liGerdo%  X  swear — :".      * - 


H 


'  V  •■=^'^fe^   •*  ±\ 


^1 


fe^*i^É?' . 


r^ 


*-»,  ' 


r/r£  DECREE   OF  DIVORCE. 


ild  hâve  rnur- 


^en  above  u», 


"Yes,  but — " 

trionic  talents  for  tirNewvdtr^^'' ^"^  ''""P  >'«"'•  ^i^- 
theni  before  long.  Let  us  iThnlï^f  agajn-you  may  need 
ment    âgo.     «  You  are    ni5  Lr  ^  '""u^^^  ^^^  «^'^  ^  mo- 

her"^  wS,irg7n'r  VacTL  t  T^  r^"^'  ^^"^^^  ^  ^« 
nothing  had  frightehed  yet  Her  h  '^^  ^^"^'«^"ed  her  as 
to  ope^  the,,4er.a"n1  ?an;d.  She  oled  at V^'"  T'' 
eous  eyes  and  trembling  lips  ^  ^^  '''"'  ^'^^  V^> 

;;i  can'r"^she  faltered;  ''Gordon,  what  fs  it?" 
so.^^Se'"^^^::^<3;b<^answered.  L  his  cold, 

fliglu,  lihs^tuted.a'^s.it    or  c^f^;^^^^^^^^^  yo^ 

oan  read  ihe  détails  [n  th^^  ?-.o  ?      '  f  °  ^^^^^"ed  it.     You 

Canada  solong^'L'tZ'daTsï^      ^^-^^K '^«P^  "^e  i 

had  LT^teSTgeS  iJ^At"''^"'^  fP^^^'  S^^ 
had  said  "  waiti  "  in  a  hofr^I'  v  ^f  "^'^  ^°'"  '^at  ;  slie 
It  was  the  ghastly  chaLethatlT^H '*"'''  ^"'  ''  ^^«  "°t  ^^at. 

startled  even  him  ^^^  *  "'°'"^"^'  ^  «"nk,  it 

Shi^ZlUZr'^'V^^' yr  ^^"  «"e-this-^vorce?" 

l'.'v  V  "°'°"Se'"^our  wife  ?" 
«.ercif:rCof"h:T„'d"'^'"'^'-'''^°''  H--''ven  and  th. 

or  deadV^  '""  "«""T  «  be  in  my  power. 


;i'^-fc'-V-..,> .' 


p^Ai^tiM^.^»!^" 


'T^V 


-'■^*V^'^''  '  "'^ 


1  f^,J»*  J      ^ 


~'r(f> 


lit '  ■ 


Uk 


30 


2'J/£  DECREE  OF  DIVORCE. 


•'  Then  hear  me  /** ^  She  drewherself  upright,  her  small 
figuré  seeming  to  dilate  and  grow  tall.  "Lovell's  story 
was  true — true  I  tell  you  in  every  particular  except  this  : 
that  I  married  you  for  your  rank,  and  your  name,  and  your 
wealth.  I  married  you  for  thèse,  it  is  true  ;  but  beyond 
thèse,  because  I  loved  you  with  ail  niy  heart.  Oh,  yes,  - 
Gordon  Caryll  !  even  such  women  as  I  am  can  love  ;  and 
in- deed,  and  thoiight,  from  the  hour  you  placed  this  ring 
on  niy  finger,  I  was  your  tnie  and  loyal  wife.  I  would 
nave  gone  with  you  to  beggary-r-I  would  hâve  died,  if  need 
wero>  for  your  sake.  Now  I  am  divorced  and  cast  off  for- 
ever,  you  say.  Well,  then  we  shall  meet  again  one  day, 
so  sufely  as  we  both  live.  This  cold-blooded  divorce  I  will 
never  forgive.  Go,  Gordon  Caryll  I  but  remember  this,  one 
day  or  other,  so  surely  as  we  both  stand  hère,  I  will  make 
you  suffer  for  this  !" 

He  laughed  as  he  listened — a  low,  contemptuous  làugh, 
that  woutd  hâve  goaded  any  infuriated  woman  to  madness. 

"  You  do  it  very  well,  Rosamond,"  he  said  ;  "  but  so 
niany  years'  hard  practice  on  the  stage  of  the  Bowery 
Théâtre  could  hardly  fail  to  tell.  For  the  rest,  it  is  rather 
wasted  on  an  unappreciative  audience  at  présent.  If  I 
should  be  so  unfortunate  as  ever  to  meet  you  again,  I 
trust,  even  then,  to  be  able  to  take  care  of  myself."/ 

He  turned  without  another  word  and  left  her,  striding 
up  the  steep  path,  and  never  once  looking  back. 

She  stood  where  he  left  her,  .watching  him  out  of  sight, 
the  color  fading  from  her  face,  the  life  from  her  eyes.  So, 
standing  motionless  there,  she  saw  him  pass  from  view, 
heard  the  last  écho  of  his  footsteps  die  away.  Then  I 
came  forward,  for  the  look  on  her  face  fnghtened  me. 
She  turned  to  me  slowly,  the  fatal  paper  held  in  her  hand. 

"  I  dreamed  he  came  with  my  death- warrant,"  she  said  ; 
"  hère  it  is."  , 

And  then  without  word  or  qy  to  wam  me,  she  went 
down  in  a  dead  faint  on  the  sands. 

How  I    broight  her  to,  how   I   got   her  home,-  I   can 

never  tell.  '    I  did  it  somehow,  and  laid  her  on  her  bed 

-»s-the^  -fane  mooa^ rose  And^^ie  stars  came  ont,  -  = 


■'T. 


'*' 


;4 


■THE  DECREE  OF  DIVORCE.  ,, 

-r-Sf  feh*^^  ^T'^ï  ^'^\^°'"aB,  was  still  pottering  about 

-^  fte  kitchen        In  her  charge  I  left  my  çiistress,  and  fled 

into  town  for  a  doctor.     For  she  was  very  ill-  o  iU  that 

,it  seemed    doubtful  whether   she  would   ever   live    o  see 

day  dawn.  ^^ 

'  ^J^''^.S^^^  °^  ^"^^^^!  ?'«^  "P  »"  steeples,  silvered  by 
the  qmet  summer  moonhght,  were  chiming  eleven  as  ouV 
first  visitor  entered  Saltmarsh— the  doctor 

And  when    the   lovelj  June  morning  dawned,  and  the 
swallows  twittered  in  the  eaves,  Gordon  Caryll's  cHild    av 
-ï  m  niy.  anns,  and  Gordon  Caryll's  divorced  wife  lay  white 

itsi  "ï^riXiJ:''^  "'  ^""^  '«'"'^^  '^^  ^^  ^^ 

'     .     '  ,  i  .       ■        ■ 


tnM 


.1    *■'&%■ 


,"^4  '  ''' 


\'  . 


■■"«. 


y 


-^     CHAPTER  IV. 

A  STRANGE   ENDINO. 

IIFE  won.  Days  passed,  two  weeks  went  bv  and 
the  stmggle  was  at  an  end.  Pale  and  sha(  owy  that 
marvellously  fair  face  lay  among  the  pil  ows  bu   al 


A  STRANGE  ÉNDfN^O. 


Il 


;  ,^azing  >»ith  dark,  sombre  eyes  out  at  that  radiance  in 
Heavcn  and  on  earth-that  glory  f.o.n  the  skies  upor.  rivir 
a.Klshore.  I-oMnoro  than.  an  hour  she  had  been  siî  L 
motignless  her  dark,  brooding  eyes  never  Icavinr  L  fi  f 
scène  as  though  she  saw  her  mvn  future  life  ovcr^  ère  1  e^ 
yond  that  sh.n.ng  nver.  In  the  dim  distance,  baby  ay  i Juâ 
cnb  fast  asieep;  deepest  silence  reigned  w.th  n  and  mtHoit 
ITiat  silence  wassuddeniy  and  siiarply  brok^by  he  H  v 
feeble  wa.  of  the  child  as  it  awoke:  "^^s  I  roseLd  cros  ed 

lence  I  obel^ed      Th     T  !°,''^  '^'''^  "^""«'^^'  '^"t  in  si- 
lence 1  obeyed.      Fhere   had  been  swpething  revolting  to 

me  m  Uer  utterwant  of  molher-love;  in- her  unnatura  i^d  f 
beTidfVer!  """''  ''  ''  ^'"  '^"'^'^^  ^"^  ^'<>°l-d  to'plàce  it 

"No,  no,"  she  said  with  a  quick,  pétulant  gësture  of  r^ 
pulsion;  "notthere;  Idon'twantit^    1  alwa^s  S  ba- 
bies.     I  only  want  to.ïook  at  it."  "      ^  \ 

"  Shall  I  bring  in  the  lamp  ?  "  I  asked. 

Joatf  ::L!^!trî'^'^  ""  '"    ""'''  *  ^°*  °^  -l'^by ,/ 

Vo2I^LTu"^m'''w'''''''''^'  "beyondthat  it  is  i.n-" 
possib  e  to    ell.     Mrs.  Watters  says,  thoiigh,  it  is  your  verv 

"mv  verV  m::S"'^  ^'^  '"'^^i'^î^^  thaVever  w^rbon^^ 

My  very  moral     she  repeat^d,  with  a  feeble  laugh.     "  I 

hope  so  I     I  hope  it  may  be  like  me.     I  hope  it  nuv  never 

resemble  >5/^,  in  any  way.      I  hoptf  it  may    ivèVheb 

avenge  its  mother  yet  1  "  ^  ^ 

reowZ  ^"""'-«hocked  and  scandalized  beyond  power  of 
reply  ng.  Hère  was  a  Oiristian  woman  and  mother  i.iïï 
saved  from  death,  talking  like  some  heathen.of  revenge 

Uir  ,    1  answered,  shortly.     "  It  is  time  you  asked  " 

^^wS   T'^,5'r'"".'^  '"-T^"^^'  b"^  i"  "o  ispleasure.' 
.,,'^'^yshouldlask?    It  didn't  matter  much     A  drll  « 

;  e1n5"rpSt;'h7'  '""T'  ^^°  ^^™  ^^^^^^ 
beÎD«^     S^'n^™f '^^«'■^^'^'^'"g'yet.     She  may 

-w«t«rncdiOTiacerj:oin'ïhe  iight,^a^^        for  "a  long 


>. 


34 


A  STRAIfGE  BNDING, 


■<  I 


time  still,  brooding  over  her  own  thoughts—  dark  and  wicked 
tholights  I  well  knew.  VVhoever  or  whatever  this  Mrs.  Gor- 
don migKt  be,  slie  was  hot  a  proper  or  yirtuous  woinan, 
that  seeoied  preUy^  clear  —a  wife  whose  hu^band  had  beeii  ' 
forecd  to  put  her  away — a  mother  who  only  looked  for<^rd 
to  the  future  df  her  child  as  an  instrument  of  vengeance 
on  its  father.  There  are  some  services  thàt  no  wages  can 
repay— to  iny  uiind  this  wasone.  The  moment  Mrs.  Gor- 
don was  jvell  enough  to  be  left,  that  moment  1  would  leave 
her.       .  . 

"  And  what  will  beçome  of  you  with;  such  a  mother, 
Providence  only  knows,"  I  apostrophized  ithe  little  one  on 
niy  lap.  "  You  poor,  little, .  spectral,  black-eyed  njite  I  I 
wish  you  belonged  to  me  altogethér." 

From  that  evening  Mrs.  <iordon  rallicd^  and  bs^ertéd  her 
power  once  more  fis  mistress  of  the  house.  Her  first  act 
of  sovcreignty  was  to  dismiss  the  nurse. 

"  AU  danger  is  over,   the  doctor>tçllà  me,"  she  said  to 
•  Mrs.  Watters  a  few  days  after.     '.' Joan  Kennedy  can  take 
care  of  me  now.     I  shall  not  require  ypu  any  more.     Joah, 
pay  Mrs.  Watters  her  due.     She  leaves/to-night." 

Mrs.  Watters  left.  Next  morning  Mrs.  Gordon  asserted 
herself  still  fur ther — she  insisted  upoii  being  dresaed  and 
allowed  là  sit  up.  She  had  her  Way,  ôf  course,  and  I  wish 
I  could  tell  you  how  fair  and  yo\ithful  aïKl'lovely  she  looked. 
Youthful  !  I  déclare,  whatever  her  âge  really  was,  she  did 
not  look  a  day  over  sixtcen.  But  there  was  that  in  her  quick, 
black  eyes,  in  her  colo^rless  face,  in  those  latter  days,  not 
pleasant  to  see— something  I  conld  not  define,  aiid  that 
confirmed  me  in  my  resolution  to  leave  her  very  soon.  Of 
her  child,  from  the  evening  of  which  I  hâve  spoken,  she 
took  not  the  slightest  notice.  I  truly  believe  she  never 
once  looked  at  itagain  ;  when  itcried  s^  had  it  impatiently 
removed  out  of  hearing.  She  sat  thinking— thinking  stead- 
fastly,  with  bent  brows  and  compressed  lips,  of  what — who 
CQuld  tell  ? 

**  ni  give  her  waming  to-morrow,"  I  said  résolutely  ta 
inyself;  "my  month  is  up  in  a  week.  l'il  never  liv« 
anpthef  with  ycHi.  my  pr<stty,  mysterious^iittle  mistresa." 


»<,'m«i&?'-'.-%rvS'*^i? 


-»5-  ,  *^^Vf^^     '■'î  '' "^^'a** V 


>#  SrXANÇE  ENDING. 


35 


jsl  tboight  it.    Did  she  divine  my  very  thouchts  ?    Thî 

to  a  most  misérable  Tnd  ïonely  wonl^n  %T'**^k  "f  "^'"^ 
"'.Tctd  h'  *ri^\°'  "'  anStrrSe'say'^g^ïïV;""'  ^°" 

'•Gomg  away,  Joan:  hiffh  time  is  it  nnf>     au  • 
to.morro»  1  go  ow  in.o  the  wÔrU  once  more^dL  "lî 

eighteen  •'  "**'°  *°  ''^  ^'^°'"'^«d  ''^^«^at  the  âge  of 


'W. 


'  .c 


a(»^aSf,i*,    j4*.te,  , 


"n^JSM. 


■MPPi 


X  y  ^      »\ 


36 


-rf   STRANGE  ENDING.  v  ' 


bu^r  Ô.n?  iî  fTh"^  ^°'"^'"'-  J°^"-^»»^t'  I  ««appose,  you  kno.  ; 
but  I  qmt  it  a  thoiisand  tunes  worse.     I.  came  hère  with  â 
human  heart,  at  least,  a  heart  that^-could  love  and  feel  re- 
morse  :  but  love  and  remorse  are  at  an  end.     I  told  him  I- 
loved  hmi  and  had  been  faithful  to  him,  and  he  laughed  in 
my  face.     Women    can  forgive  a  great  deal,  but  they  do 
notforgive   that.     If  he  had  only  left  me-if  he   had^not 
got  that    divorce,   I  would    never    hâve    troubled    him— 
never,  I  swear     I  would  hâve  gone  away  and  loved  him. 
and  been  faithful  to  him  to  the  end.     Now-now VsS 
paused,  her  hands  clenched,  her  yellow  eyes  gleaming  cat- 
.ke  m  the  dusk.     «  Now,  I  will  pay  him  back.  sooni  or 
later,  if  I  lose  my  hfe  for  it.     I  will  be  revenged— that  I 

r,i  "'''■^"'^^a^ay  .O-om  her,  from  the  sight  of  her  wicked 
lace,  from  the  hearmg  of  her  wickec^l^ords,— the  horror  I 
îelt,  showmg,  I  suppose,  in  my  face. 

««r/.î  l"  ^""^"^^  /.^'■^  horrible,  yery  shocking,  does  it 
not  ?'  she  asked,  bitterly.  -  You  a/e  one  of  the  pious 
and  proper  sort,  my  good  Joan,  who  walk  stiffly  Ilong 
the  smooth-beaten  path  of  propriety,  from  your  cradle  to 
your  graye.'  Well,  I  won't  shock  you  much  longer,  lel  that 
be  your  comfort.  The  day  after  to-morrow  I  go,  ànd  as  a 
souvenir  I  mean  to  leave  that  behind  me."  « 

She  pomted  coolly  to  the  crib  in  the  cornei'. 

»  /°"— you  mean  to  leaye  the  baby?»  I  gasped. 

Knif  r  1,"'^^"'^.°  •'^^''^  ^"^^  ^^by-"  she  answered,  with  a 
half  laugh,  parodymg  my  tone  of  consternation;  "you 
didnt  suppose  I  meant  to  take  it  with  me,  didyou?    I 

young  lady-young  lady,  you  understand,  Joan?  and  you 

icYh  f  72  ^""11  ^  '^^"  ^^"y  "°  s"*^^^  land-mark  with  me 
as  that  of  the  old  one.  Yes,  Joan,  I  shall  leave  the  baby 
wuh  you,  if  you  wiU  keep  it,  with  Mrs.  Waters  if  you  will 

;Ji*  ^^'  i^.îî^"  ''f^P  ^y^  ^^^y  *P^  welcome,"  I  said  :  «  poor 
«n  L       Ku^""^  ^l''^^?  ^"  "'  s'^^P'  so  «'"ail  and  helpless, 
so  worse  than  orphan)Ed  at  its  very  birth,  I  stooped  and  - 
kissed  it,  with  texfs  ^  my  jgyér        ^  '  pea  ang 


'-- tf,. 


f'^-^.-'-X  v:**^;'^ 


37 


^  STRANGE  kNDWG. 

But  it  js  late  in  the  day  for  wSi  ""?  ^.  '^«'"^  Jike  you 
Vou  will  keep  the  child?°   '"'''^'"«-^^^1  ,s  doqe  i,  done. 
;'  I  wUl  keep  the  child." 

<^l^f^^J^^^^^y^^     One  day 
.       "  has  us  work  to  do  in  the  ^^id  ,f ^ ^  ^«^  «  die,  Joan^ 
W  you,  of  course,  and  welî     Th        "^  ""^'^  ^°  "•     ^  wil 
«'hen  I  came  hère  is  almost  Je  kT"^  ^  '^^^  ^'^h  me 
your  d^nadian  woods  anTr  ver  th.r.  °"*  r"^'^'"'  ^^^0"^ 
busy  *,ns  and  hands.     The  fi^ rn ;?      ''  f'*"^^^  '"«re  for 

leave  w,th  you  to  sell  or  keep  al  von"'^  °1  ^'^"^^  '•°'^"«  I 
"'ay  be,  I  will  give  you  an  Ll^  ^^^  ^*-  ^herever  I 
reach  me."  ^       ^°"  ^°  ^ddress,  whence  le  tiers  will  " 

•  c^IZ:!!  "^^^^  -turn-never  corne  to  see  your  • 

shoufdT/'  ^l27rcVfoTTt  'not'"  ''  '°^ fi°°^-     VVhy 
you  mean.     On^  day,  if  we  bo;;:T    ^/^f^^-i»  the  way- 
day  its  father  shall  l/arn   to  hU       .'''^'/  '^'"  ^^^^im  "J  one 
has  a  child."  "'  *°  ^'^  ^««t  and  his  sorrpw,  that  he 

f^^n  Sl^^l^  Zi^%  ^^eat  eyes  for  an  in- 
h^rfplded  hands^a;^1dly"o„  ^L'erl"  T^^  "°  '»o^e!l 
turned  upon-  the  raoidlu  L  i,     -       ^^P'  ^^r  moody  g^e 

twUight  was  shrouding  ail  S^^  g^ay,  creeping,   î„iv 

babyawoke  and  crfed     I  hf/V\^  f^^^^^^  hLe^'  K 

amp  and  Hfted  it     As  l  t    ■  '''  ^?"'^  ^«^dy-J  m  the 

us  feeding-bottlerits  hg  blIS  eve^sV^^^  P'^^'^^^  ?""'"«  at 

Sf;."^  n,other  -ne^d ï;rm\rwS;ï:d"lM 

fusîT^oflonM^^^^  ^'-'^  eyes.  and  prc 

changeling  in  a  fafry  tai^thL  7^^,  ^""^  "^^^  some  effish 
"  Ifs  a  hideous  i«  le  ob^e  "  ''    '^ïï^  '^^"'^"  <=hild. 


X 


^i^^tà. . 


w 


\ 
* 


4 


,•■,:«  lA-,-  ; ','ijï '■■'"•  :;#'"**Sr| 


♦'•S' 


38 


A^  STRANGE  ENDING. 


~\ 


It  must  be  pretty.     Will  it,  do  you  fhink,  Joan?  ^Wm  it 
rcally  look  liice  nie?" 

"  I  tlîink  so,  madame— :very  like  you.    More's  the'^pity," 
I  added,  under  my  breath. 

"  Ay  "  still  thoughtfully  staring  at  it,  "  is  there  any  ,v. 
birthmark  ?  The  proverbial  strawberry  on  thç  arm,  or  mole  * 
on  the  neck,  you  know  ?  that  sort  of  thing ?"  "  iv 

"  It  has  no  mark  of  any  kind,  from  head  to  foot."  ■^,:; 

"What  a   pity;  we   mûst  give  it  one,  then.     Art  musT  "^ 
supply  the  deficiencies  of  nature.     It  shall   be  done   to--^' 
morrow." 

"  Whqi  must  be  done  ?    Mrs.  Gordon,  you  don't  surely 
mean — " 

•  "I  mean  to  mark  that  child  so  that  I  shall  know  it  again, 
fifty  years  from  now,  if  need  be.  Don't  look  sô  horrified, 
Joan, — I  won't  do  anything  very  dreadful.  On^arks  one's 
pocket-handkerçhiefs— why.not  one's  babiesA^ou  may 
die;  she  may  grow  up  and  run  away— oh,  yës,  she  may  ! 
If  she  takCs  after  her  mother,  you  woii't  find  it  a  bed  of 
roses  bringing  her  up.  We  may  cross  paths  and  never  • 
know  each  other.  ï  want  to  guard  against  that  possihility. 
l'want  to  know  my  daughter  when  we  meet." 

"  For  pityls  sake^  madame,  what  is  it  you  intend  to  do?"    , 

"  You  hâve  seen  tattooing,  Joan,  done  in  India  ink  ? 
Yes.  Well,  that  is  what  I  nîean.  I  shall  mark  her  initiais 
on  her  arm  to-morrow,  exactly  as  I  mark  them  on  my  * 
handkerchief,  and  you  shall  help  me." 
'  "  No,  madame,"  I  cried  out  in  horror,  "  I  will  not.  Oh, 
you  poor  Jittle  helpless  babe  I  Madame  1  I  beg  of  you — 
don't  do  this  cruel  thing."  ^ 

"Cruel?     Silly  girf  I     I  shall  give  it  a  sleeping  cordial,  - 
and  it  will  feel  nothing.     So  you  will  not  help  me?" 

"  Most  assuredly  I  will  not." 

"  Very  well— Bettine  will.  And  léist  your  tender  feelings 
should  be  lacerated  by  being  in  the  house,  you  may  go  and 
pay  your  mother  and  sister  a  visit.  By  the  by,  you  don't 
iâsk  me  what  its  name  is  to  be,  Joan."  "  ^^ 

•*  As  I  am  to  keép  it,  though,  supposing  you  don't  kiU  il 
to-morrow.  'I  sUall  be  glad  to  kncwirf  Mrg>  Gordon." 


^ 


i..,  .  \r^ 

:'-i^!^ 

» 

%  , 

wm  it 

."^'    ,.,, 

W" 

tt 

e   any  i 
r  mole  „ 

■ .  "4' 
:  mus! 

surely 

again, 
Tified, 

i  one's 

- 

may 

may  1 
bedof 

' 

never  • 

„  » 

bility. 

<. 

do?" 

„ 

ink? 

nitials 

n  my 

ft 

Oh, 

f 

/ou — 

'^ 

-I  STRANGE  END  ATG. 
di:  '  K  lÏV^^t:^  i^t;:---  ^ar;  I  do  Jt  .ant     ^l 

She  paused  a  moment,  and  tuSëd"^^^^^ 
On />*«  point,  evenshecouldfeelvet  '^  ^^  **^^^- 

^'but  I  will  still  call  it  &  him  r  "V  "^^^''°'  ^^^^dily, 
nariie,  s  it  not.  Joan  ?  an  odd  o^e  ton  f°"  ^^'ï^-^  P^etty 
clami  Tt,  howrever,  and  the  nron/r  °  *  ^"'^-     ^"'"  ^ 

the  Caryll,  and  call  ft  KennX    TJnT^'  ^"  ^'^  ^'"«^ 
Scotch,  respectable  name-Gord;»  i^^^^^»  »  good  old 
^  I  said,  to-,norro«r  I  wiH  mark  th.  i^-T"^;:  ^'"  ^°-     As 
Vafn.;  and  whatever  hàppTns  ve^  '""jf'^  '  ^'  ^'  "P^^  its 
?iy  daughtèr  and  I  evVr  meet  \Tnl^  ^^^'^  ^'•°'"  "O"'-  >ï 

^"l 'co^rdo'^ï  "-""Vert-"  ""  '"  '^^^^^^'  ^"*^ 

'  Tu'J^''  <^rueUy/S5t  sh%i'''^ottr'anH  ^'^^   '"'^^^^^ 
could  do  as  she  nleased      I  wonW      .    and.mistress,  and 

•«"■"i  up,   Beube  «c  tet  S;,  ^'A^i-  "»  "■'',  the  .rm 
.  cpol.  '•'"°'  *"»•   Gordon  coBiposed  and 

until  «fadame  double  druâ^eH^f  i-*"?  ^'^^'^  ^he  heart, 
7the  poor  infanttwill  b^sore'  and  '  «^  ^'ï*  ^he  arm 
day  to  corne.  It  is  a  heart  «f  »?  ^  >nflamed  for  many  a 
the  pretly  little  madame"  °°^-    ^^^'^eUe  Jeanni^ 


.  w 


^i 


lj:i 


I  •*  v'•'&•J&^É^li^î^*.>^  -'■. 


l^'-.f 


^^  <^m 


R 


40 


A  STRAUrCE  ENDWG. 


\-y^: 


■     lever  stirred      A„S  li,     ^      "''    °>"-'en,  eleven;   she 
figure  was  there  ae  rte  wfndo  "/jr    '  ""^  "°"°"'«^  "'"» 

.he  cabriolet  ordered S  QuXc  wST.h:?'']  """'•  S** 
Slooped  for  a-moment  over  hVr  babe  "h.?.         "^T-     ^''° 

re?^°-l%r-^-*'"""»';ieï.s;^^^^^^^^^ 

banfl.  ^      '  ^"  °°«  ^S»'"-    She  held  out  her 

n.e"S«^tkrgo°„e-"a  ^Sr  li.tP""-'  ""*.'°°  ^^<"^  »' 
bas  gonehard.    vTla\ ^  g  ^^àTZla, "'""l  "^^ 

I  ;«.>  corne  back  year^  toi  d7,t^J^''\^r^\ 
iney  were  ehe  last  words  she  eve,  .pok.  jn  &ut»..rA 


r,'f 


•  i 


fAvt,  ■  ^~  ,i 


"t  -^ 


i      -''1 


"-rr 


"«'-■»   .  ->  >: 


S:^ÉMÈ' 


■  J«ï  ■■!>..'. 


'^  STRANGE  ENDWG. 

'  JasïJl^!^  S^^S^^l  S\TT  ^  ^-  ^°'^- 

I  watched  her  enter  th^  rnh    '      ?  °"*  °^  "^^  '«''«  fo'-ever. 

■   pale,  lovely  face"  of  i  little  Vo^/h'^I  °"/  lasrglimpse  of  a 

old  Québec 'slept   in to^'nlg'^^ilt'XTôrd^n^^^^ 
floodingu^steepstreets  it^  tin  rw   '•.    ,  r^°'^^"  sunshme 

Beufn'r  "pir:^i'^r::/„t"  fi'^'^^  •^--^  -^  ^'--d 

bec  and  sold      J  a  ein  Z  •  ^^'?^'  '"^''^  ^  «^"^  '""'o  Que- 

replaced  the  placard  ter  th', S  "S  '"^^^^^-d. 
more  a  "-House  to  Let."  ^  Saltmarsh  was  once 

She  had  corne  among  us  a  mysterv— «;h^  i«ft 
mystery  still.     I  write  tliis  rtr^i^  7^1      .  .^^  "^  ^  greater 
Jay  it  jnay  need  Tt      l  fèel  "haf the'    '''  'ïf  '  ^"'^^-^'^^ 
not  end  hbre,  that  it  is  but  f h.       ?  T'^  ^  ^^^«  '«'^  does 

So  surelyas  t  JwonUn  and  thi^SI'  '°  "i"'  ^^  ^^  ^°"'«- 
-sad  and  deep  troubîe  to  th/r  '';^^  ^"^  •"^^*' t^O"ble 

corne  of  it      I  savTa.fn  î  *''?*  "^f?  Gordon  Caryll-^vill 

her.     If  I  dï  I  Will  p£  it    n  Jr"  ^.f  ^'"^^  ^«  «^  "«^  »<> 
her,  and  so  I  «gn  mysetf  ^^  ^^"'^''^^  ^^  g^^^n  to 

JOAK  KenxeDY. 


!^ 


^«3ji 


;.  JiiKr^  fi-A  -  ' 


.^SJiCLS^Ii- 


CHAPTER  V. 


r^ 


AT   CARYLLYNNE. 

lANY  milis  away,  niany  miles  of  land,  many  leagues 
of  sea,  far  beyond  that  "  city  set  on  the  hill,"  Qpç- 
bec,  far  away  in  fair  England,  lay  tlie  broad  do- 
main   of   Caryllynne,   Gordon    Caryli's  ancestral 
home. 

It  lay  in  one  of  the  brightest,  sunniest  of  the  sunny  sea^ 
side  shires,  a  fair  and  stately  inheritance,  stretching  away 
for  miles  of  woodland  and  meadowland,  to  the  wide  sea, 
sparkling  in  the  late  August  sunshine,  as  if  sown  with  stars.  ' 

Under  a  massive  Norman  arch,  between  lofty  iron  gâtes, 
you  went  up  a  sweep  of  broad  drive,  with  a  waving  sea  of 
manycolored  foliage  on  either  hand,  slim,  silver-stemmçd 
birches,  copper  beeches  with  leaves  like  blood-red  rubie?. 
sombre  pines,  hoary  oaks,  graceful  elms,  and  whole  rows  of  ' 
prioi  poplars,  those  "old  maids  of  the  wood."  '  Far  away 
this  brilliant  forest  of  Caryllynne  stretched  to  the  emerald 
cliffs  above  the  bright  summer  sea,  to  the  little  vilJagç  nest- 
hng  between  those  green  cliflFs,  a  village  which  for  two  cen- 
turies had  called  the  Squire  of  Cfiryllynne,  lord. 

You  went  up  this  noble  avenue  for  a  mile  or  more  past 
the  pictufesque  Swiss  cottage  that  did  duty  as  a  gâte  lodge, 
past  green  and  golden  slopes  of  sward,  past  parterres  bright 
with  gorgeous  autumnal  floMters,  to  the  Manor  hoiise  itself, 
an  irregular  structure  of  gray  stone,  turreted  and  many-ga- 
bled  and  nîiich  ivy-grown.  There  was  a  stately  portico  en- 
tr»nce,  a.flight  of  shallow  stone  steps,  and  two  couch- 
ant stone  dogs,  with  the  ancient  raotto,  *'Cave  ranm."*>  It 
was  a  very  old  house,  one  portion  as  old  as  the  reign  of  the 
greatl-y-marriéd-man,  Hertry  the  Eiehth/  A  gift,  indeed, 
fromMMQst  Christian  MajestyloAr-JasperCaryll,  Km 


'-   ••• 


■  pk^ 


.«>,, 


%> 


ï«t'.'*'    ^i-*'^!^^^^^    a  (. 


r-^fsr.-^^m^'^  ■ 

3                          • 

4^   CARYLLYNNE, 

P 

P 

m 

t'   •                   •      iv'        ^^1 

*«■% 

43 

ly  leagues 

lill,"  Qpç- 

}road  do- 

ancestral 

unny  sea- 
ling  away 
wide  sea, 
vith  stars, 
ron  gâtes, 
ng  sea  of 
-stemtnfd 
d  rubie^ 
B  rows  of 
Far  away 
emerald 
agç  ncst- 
two  cen- 

lore  past 
ite  lodge, 
es  bright 
ise  itself, 
many-ga< 
rtico  èn-.~^ 
•  couch- 
iw.'V  It 
;n  of  the 
,  indeed* 
,  Knight, 


h^"i:t°rf4^"^-^-  ^^'^'  °^  '^^^  ^^^ocç^ion  ot 

with  a  brass  tablet  abovë  h  J  J.'^^^-  ^""u^'"^^  °^^  y^a^-s» 
nuny  CarylJs  had  been  bori  aJd  r^^^J^'"  T^^^>  ^"^ 
within  those  grav  stone  w.Hc  •  "^?^^'  ^"^  had  died, 
.  of  life,  "  Hatfh^^grM:trhi"^^  T^'r,^'''  î'-'^'  «'^  business 
on  and  on  within  those  andQue.?'''K''^'''"Sv'  ^ad  gone 

Marian  Caryll,  widoTof  S^^.  ]ate  Gnî^''^^"?,  ^''''''^' 
now  in  the  Manor  alone  ^""^^'^^  ^^'■>'"'  ^^igned 

do:s':atseti^dh:?,XTaï:Tï^  ^^^^^^"S^-  -" 
tories  gay  with  flowe  ;  thèse  3  l^'^''^^^^'  ^°"^^^^^- 
bright.  Flowers,  indeed  were  Zlr^  ?^  ^î^^'^^  ^«^^"^"8 
in  half  a  hundred  nooks  in  swinTn  ^T.^T'  '"  «^'^^  ^^«^ 

eventidelayovertheland  ncVi        u^^*  ^remulous  hush  of 
Phaeton  da^shed  up  the  îo;,^^ï;"^"f ^^J^^P^k  gâtes  a  pony 

h.gh-steppçrs.  a  dainty.ffi  baske?  r.^  •"''^'     Two  black 
suting  vcry  erect  and  upri.^^^^^  ^^^  a  lady 

hand-a  lady  in  sweepinim^r  Inf     m   *  ^^"^^^^  firm 
weeds-the  mistress  ofThfs  f^rr^^nfain  '"^'''""^  ^^^'^^^ 

hi^^^rSl^rard  SeXd  o^^ '  ^'^^  '^-^    As  she  flung 
a  very  tall  a„d  st  &°tSf  ^  '""f  '''''  ^^^  ^af     . 
well.     A  tall,  pale,  ra^her  cold'IS.  ^I  ^°"^  J'^^"  «^  «& 
lady,  handsomer  i^rhaDs  inÏÏr  t  ^  .  ''^î"?'  "*«^  ^aughty 
could  ever  hâve  bJ^nTyou^''  "'"''''  ™'^^^«  ^«  *han^«hj 

ACn7sh':":?dfoXl;oU^^^  l^ynelyAbbey. 

exercised  and  well  rubbe/do^  '  u^M^^'  '^^y  ^'^  '^^^7 
__  .;:  nian^maclc  a  «,rt  of  hâTffliirury  galute,  as  to  his  com- 


V 

-F 


«nanding  officer. 


■■■m* 


m 


K 


% 


V 


C 


r^ 


tiif^f 


♦T^* 


-   l 


X- 


^      ^        '    *vry  ^ 


^--; 


ll|> 

ii'<^i- 


<>  r;  ,' 

'Aï 


.;S«*'i' 


44 


^7"  CARYLLYNNE. 


"Post  canie'alf  an  hour  ago,  ma'am.  l'U  dtttnd  to  thc 
ponies,  pia'am,  ail  right." 

Mrs.  CaVvJl  passed  on  with  |  slow  and  measured  sort  of 
tread  up  th'»  stone  steps,  past  the  great  couchant  dogs,  along 
.  thé  vast  domed  hall,  hung  with  suits  of  mail  and  antlered 
heads,  up  the  wide  stairvvay  and  into  her  own  rooms.  Thè 
rose  light  of  the  sunset  filled  those  elegantly  appointed 
apartments,  and  Jying  upon  an  irilaid  table  the  mistress  of 
the  Manor  saw  what  she  lookedfor — a  sealed  letter.  Her 
heârt  gave  a  bound,  cold  and  well  disciplined  as  it  was,  but 
(it  was  chaiacteristic  of  the  woman)  before  taking  it  up,  she 
slowly  laid  aside  her  bonnet  and  veil,  drew  off  her  gloves, 
and  then  deliberately  lifted  it.  A  moment  she  paused  to 
glance  at  t'ie  ftpe  flowing  writing  she  knew  so  well,  then  she 
opened  an<l  reàd  : 

LoNDON,  August  25/A,  18—. 

My  De AHEST  Mother  : — I  hâve  arrived  but  this  moment. 
By  the  first  train  I  leave  for  home.  I  write  this  simply  to 
announc^  my  Coming.  I  will  be  with  you  almost  as  soon  as 
my  note.  I  know  that  in  spite  of  ail  you  will  grant  me  this 
last  interview  a,t  least. 

Your  aflfectionate  son, 

Gordon  Caryll. 

■> 

•She  CTUshed  the  brief  letter  in  her  strong  white  hand. 
Her  fixrdly  pale  face,  even  in  the  glow  of  the  sunset,  seemed 

,  lo  grow  paler,  her  firm  lips  set  themselves  in  one  tight  un- 
pleasant  îine. 

"  *  My  dearest  mother  !  '  *  Your  affectionate  son,'  "  she 
said,  bitterly,  looking  at  the  letter.  "  Yes,  I  will  see  him — 
he  is  right — for  the  last  time.  After  to-night  I  shall  be  as 
though  I  neverhad  a  child." 

She  folded  the  letter,  laid  it  aside  methodically  in  a  drawer 
with  many  others.  Slow,  methodical  habits  had  become 
second  nature  to-Mrs.  Caryll.  "Yes,"  she  thought,  "  I  will 
see, him  once  more — once  more.  Whatever  he  may  hâve  to 
say  in  his  own  défonce  I  will  hear.    To  him  and  to  ail  mam 

,kind  I  triisLl  shall  alwaysdomy  duty But  corne  what  may, 

after  to-night  I  will  i^ver  see  him  again." 


i^! 


■^k^^dp''- 


iA 


^^■m 


^T  CARYLLYNNE. 


i 

45 


b.ifgV°tldUTver:r^^^^  would  possibly 

Her  whole  soûl  cried  oût  fnr  ïf  '    ^  'u  ^  ""^^  ^  ^^^O"^-" 
after  thisonce,tose^r:o1rrfSev\"r'  ^^'"'^  ^^^^'^^ 

looked,  was  the  porttaïof  h.r  h  'k^^^°"^^* '^'^'^h  she 
years  ago,  in  the  aalknt  1a  t'^^T^^  P^'"ted  twenty 
présent  tohis  b  ide  A  hf  ^  ^  "^'r  ^^^'  °^  ^'^  ^0"^^.  a 
ever  been  handsoL  men  "andThi/T  '  a'  F/^^'"^  ^^ 
womanhad  loved  her  h!.cNo  I  -^  '^'^°"^'  self-contained 
love.  Now.  he  too  îav^n  Rn /h  ""''^  ^  ^'T  ^"^  ^^^^^less 
ago  they  had  laid  h^mtlfee  llft7Z"^'''\''^J  «"J^  ^  «^onth 
brought  upon  hin,  by  an^'n^t      ""^"  ^'  ^^'"^  ''''  ^'^^-^ 

son^"¥^o  ytrraTtL^rSr'^^^' ^  ^"'^"-"^ 
his  departure  for  rfn  Ji     vu  î-^^^"  P^'"*^^'  °"  the  eve  of 
face  of  tie  lad  of  f^^enf.'         ^'^ /«g''"^"^-     The  frank  fa? 
at  her  from  the  canva/'  ^W^t'h^^^  and  yello«r.haired,  smileS 
doMrn,  and  turnedkwltii  .hTf    ^/^^'"'^  ^^"^  ^^e  took  it 
again  but  it  told  how   mln'the' m  "  '^V^^ï     ^  ""'^  ^^ing 
expect  when  he  sto^d  S^hls  SL''°^'°'^  ^"^"  '"'«'^'   - 
mi  y  sky^Xteer'''  .P^^^ugust  moon  rose  up  the 
cast  bng  slamL^f.A'"^'''"^  ^^'"''>'  '"^  *he  sait  seaWind! 
high  road,  as  ?rôaf  tt  fn""'  f '''^'''^  ^"^^^  ^-hiteness  of  thé 
tion,  a  fly  frlm  the  ri-  °r"  ^^°"^' J'^™  '^^  brightly  lit  stl    ' 
themoon'litTenuetofe^^^^^^     T""^^  the.^ttes  and  up 
Paid  and.dismissed  he  man  Ind  n«^T^  "'"^  ^^'"^"8  °"^' 

pallidlighttolookabouS     On^i  7      ^  '"'''?^"*  ^"  ^^« 
ftoodl>e%iast^t^ryé^^^^^^ 

but  his  life,  and  he  ho?  fe..^nt  L"*  had  changed-nothing 
,  «uu  me  not  fever  of  hisown  youthful  fancy-- -. 


4>'   i 


l^îîfei 


^>^  'Kj> 


r^'" 


'''  ^  ■^.^ 


•f 


i¥ 


■r: 


46 


^r  CA/iyLLyj\rAE. 


the  fair,  treacherous  face  of  a  wonian  had  spoile.d  that  for. 

c  V  c  r»  " 

He  lifted  the  heavy  bronze  knocker  and  sent  the  echoes 
nngmg  dully  do^m  the  great  hall.  The  man  who  opened 
the  door,  an  old  fam.Iy  servant,  started  back  with  a  cry  of 
surprise  and  delight.  «•  »-'/  oi 

!.'  Sure  to  goodness,  if  it  isn't  Mr.  Cordon  corne  back  !  " 
Mr    Gordon   corne  back— bad  shillings  always  corne 
back.  don't  they  ?     Ho>v  are  you,  Norton  ?     Is  my  morer 

^    ^Z^lf  ^''  ^°''^°"-    ^^  J^er  o«rn  rooms.     You  kiîow  the 

The  nmn  stared,  but  obeyed.     Gordon  Caryll  stood  in  the 
long   echoing    deserted  hall,  staring  moodily   out  at  the- 
moonhght,  and  not  at  ail  sure,  in  spiîe  of  his  letter,  whether 
his  mother  would  deign  to  see  him  or  not.     But  hîs  do^bS 
were  speedily  set  at  rest.     Norton  reappeared.  . 

,«rî^^  "?*l"'  '^^  '^^.  y°"'  Mr.- Gordon,  sir.    She  bids 
jou  corne  to  her  at  once  in  her  morning  room.»  - 

h.rA?  T'^^aJ°'  ""^  "^'^>    she  would  see  him;    he  had 
He  ran  lightly  up  the  stairs  and  tapped  at  the  familiar  door.  ! 
hand?hrenS;ed'"  "°''"'^  '^^™  f^^  "•^'  ^'^^'  "^^^  - 

'  r  îî°^r^'"  f°^  ^°°  stood  face  to  face.    A  cluster  of  wax^ 
hghts  ht  the  room   briUiantly.     In  their  full    glo«r  Mre 
.  Caryll  stood.  her  tall  figure  .upheld  at  its  tallest.  hfr  Jido^s 
weeds  traxhng  the  carpet,  her  widoVs  cap  on  her  dark,  un! 
sdvered  haïr,  her  face  like  a  face  eut  in  white  stone     In 
that  moment,  ifhe  could  hâve  but  seen  it,  she  bore  a  curC 

?.t'nfr"?  r  """"l''  '•?  ,^""'^^  ^'  ^^  had  stood,  pale  and 
relentless.  before  the  girl  who  had  been  his  wife.  • 

"  Mother  1       . 

She  made  a  sud'den,  hasty  motion  for  him  to  stand  stiU  and  " 

'^!SJ'  ^^^^'kP  *«^'°  """^  **'*  °'^'»  as  he  had  repelled  his 

tnewing  his  whole  fate  in  that  second  of  timc  ^  ».*"« 


s^^rUfi 


*  #  ' 


.      -.1 


AT  CARyLLYNNE, 


"  Yçu  know  that  he  is  dead  ?»  were  her  «rst  words 

as  «re  both  live  1  »  "^  '"  '"'S"*  J"™  «>  '«"g 

■        toT  three  hundred  years."  she  «wJrl  în  fi,»*  * 
of  suppressea  passion,  "  thTcaryll  hL  h^/n   k^""^  k°"*= 
lived  and  died  beneath  thJ,  r^of  k  ^^^"  ''°™'  '^^^ 

-^j  _r  .    "  "^  *"«  «ïeait.    He  d»ed  unfoi]giving  you—every 


*' 


.f:vf 


iiii)t'».-''i. 


j  .  tHfh 


^^^ 


■^,  -^  ;,.;,f:^'r.^r%:l'  S-j^'i  ?,rV-v^s^^M 


^    / 


i  h 


K 


:^ 


•H 

\ 


<  . 


■h 
i*.  - 

¥ 


:^|.H^ 


■Ai 


\« 


48 


^r  CARYLLYNNE. 


Not  an  inch  of  Caryllynne  is  entailed-that  you  Ifnow-^nof 
onefarthrng  of  the  noble  inheritance  that  w.s  your  birt^ 
right  shall  you  ever  possess.     The  name  yoû  dishonor  is 
yours  beyond  power  to  recall  ; ,  but  tbat  alone-ÏTe  one 
Ïiï fgr "•  ■  ''''  '''"  r '^'^  ^°"  "^^^^  crosrthisXeT 
Still  no  reply-still  he'stood  like  a  figure  of  stone. 
You  say  you  hâve  atoned,"  his  mother  went  on.  in  that 
W,  passionate   voice.     "  Atoned  I    That  meanswu  hâve 
dragged  the  name  of  Caryll  through  the  mi^e  andS  of  a 
divorce  court-that  your  story  and  hers,  that  lost  wretch  ik 
in  the  mouths  of  ail  men  in  Canada  and  Englàn?    Yoùr 
atonemerii  is  worse  than  your  crime.-    Your  ato^nement  S\ 
as  tyour  hfeldng     No^go!     Ail  I  wigh  to  say.î  hâve 
frceTgarnl"'"^"  ^"^"'  ^°"-^^"^  --^  ^-^  u^on  î^ 

Wl^^^f  J?f  ^""^^^  ^^  ^^^  'P^'^^"  t^  his  divorceid  wife  I 
What  fatahty  was  at  work  hère  ?  She  ceased  speak^g  and 
Gordon  Caryll  hfted  his  haggard  face  and  lobked  at  hS-to 

tîan'rj;  te^^^     ^  ^^°'  ^°  '^^-^  ^^  ^^^  -  P-  sharper 

'a  ''^\f^^}}^  ^^  y°"  ^^y"  he  answered,  veryquietlv  •  ««I 
don't  thmk  I  expected  anything  else-L  supposa  I  d^serve 
no.thmg  better.  I  will  not  tîoublp  you  again.  For  [he 
name  I  hâve  dishonored,  hâve  no  fL-it^Xu  be  di^ 
^iTe'l^f  -y  bearing  it  no  more.  I  leave  it  behind  with 
ail  the  rest     Good-night,  mother,  and  good-by." 

And  then  he  was  gone.     The  door  closed  gently  behind 
fcg'no^/^^^^^'^^-    ^^°-^  ^^^--^^  b^  aKr 

'cK^u^7^^  S''?^*^^'  white— ashen  white  to  the  lips     But— 

hiif.  ^°"&'l°"ely  years  to  corne.  She  stood  for  nearlv 
half  an  hour  m  the  ^.ot  where  he  had  left  her,  stock  stUL 
Then  she  slpwly  turned.  walked  across  the  roiiJ  Med  a 
velvet  curtain  and  entered  what  s^thed  an  oratory 
Over  a  sort  of  altar.  a  painting  of  the  Màdonna  d"  San  S 
""'^g~-ftg_exQm5ite  canif-  ar^A  «u^-i. i-„ ..    ■     ^  .  . 


^^^|y^€opy)-aad^  heavenly  tnother, 


m 


l 


j^mSEL 


\ 


-fT*  CARVLLYNNE. 


49 


fort.     And  this  is  what  she  read;  ^  ^  ^°'"  ^°'"- 

was  grieved  for  his  son      Rnftl?       '  "^^^  ^°^  ^^e  king 
the  Wng  cned  wUh  a"-lou^"V^'iL  TShT'' 'Vl"^^^ 
Oh,  Absalcm,  my  son,  my  «,n  r  »'         '  ^  "^^  ^'*^°"  ^ 

■• 


-5ji 


;ently  bçhind 
e  alone  her 


'r-^ 


TT^r-yr 


€F 


:  £■»>•, V  .l^vt-v 


'  r 


CHAPTER  VI. 


.  ->- 


GORDON    CARYLL'a    STOIW. 

IIS  trial  was  over,  his  sehtence  was  passed,  ana 
Gordon  Caryll  went  out  from  his  niother's  présence 
an  outcast  and  banished  tnan.        *  .      '^  ' 

"AU  forloye,  and  the  world  well  lost,"  he  |aid 
to  himself,  with  sometliing  that  was  alniost  a  smile.  •'"Ah, 
well  !  Corne  what  will,  I  hâve  been  blessed.  For  four 
months  I  had  my  fool's  paradise— ^let  that  thought  console 
me,  in  ail  the  years  of  outlawry  that  are  to  corne." 

He  did  not  leave  the  hôuse  directly.  On  the  landing  h« 
paused  a  moment  irresolute,  then  tumed,  ran  up  another  stair. 
way,  opened  one  of  the  many  doors  that  flanked  the  long  cor- 
^dor,  and  enterçd  the  rooms  that'had  been  his  own.  Only 
the  moonlight  lit  them,  but  that  wa$  brilliant  almost  as  day. 
With  that  slight,  sad  smile  on  his  lips  he  walked  Ihrough 
them.  Every where  traces  of  his%ead  fathef  s  pride  in  him,  his 
mother's  love  for  hira,  were  scatte<%d  with  la^Sh  hand.  More 
luxurious  alniost  were  those  rooms  than  his  mother's  own. 

"They  will  serve  for  my  mother's  heir,"  the  young  soldigr 
thowght — "  whoever  that  may  be.  Lucia  Dynely's  littlè  son 
Eric,  very  likely.  She  was  always  fond  of  Lycia  ;  so,  for 
that  matter,  was  I.  My  pretty  cousin  !  It  is  but  seven 
miles  distant,  and  there  is  time  and  to  spare.  Suppose  I 
look  her  up  for  the  last  time  before  I  go  forth  into  the  outer 
darkness,  and  be  heard  of  no  more  V' 

He  selected  a  few  trifles,  a  picture  of  this  mother,  another 
of  this  "C<ysin  Lucia"  of  his  thpughts,  a  gold-mounted 
meerschaum  pipe — then  with  a  last  backward  glance  of  fare- 
well  at  the  pretty  moonlit  rooms,  be  ran  down  the  stairs, 
"ôut  ôf  the  sflènTBbuse,  the  grear  ijoor  xlosed  widi  a-J— — 
behind  him,  and  ail  was  over. 


j       '    ■;■.--   -  s.; 


'-.^ 


l    1    V-   _ 


Jr  '•\/h^:'■■;z'■n^^^^ 


,/  ^  pORDOlf  CiRYLVS  StaRY. 

park  ,ha.  „as  nevef  eo  Ki^™  J^"  "'  '"-^W*'"""* 
As  he  stopiwd  for  one  last  lont  „  • 

woihan  1  '•  ^"  ™""  =  niadness— loving  a 

gaSp.  'P^r  TesTaf  ^e  Sri  ^^"^  '^r  ^    ^<>  ^ 
village  forge  AameSh  lur  S  red  S?"  i'^^J^  twinkled,  the 

D^:?;  X^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  to  his  destination, 

tonc  pile,  that  long  cenLes^^^^^K  ^^^^     '^"^^  ^is- 
njohasteiy,  in  the  days  wh^-^^^  "^^^^  f  Cistercian 
Triple  Crown  "heldmiah7„c        t     ^^>'^  ^"^  Cross  and 
As  he  rode  at  aÏÏllo^ u^  t^^^r^"^  ^"  ^^^^^  ^"g'^nd       . 
the  great  gray  Abbey^eaiîv  «Tm '^ -^^^  .^^^^ 
horse  shied  at  som^whiCobic?  .V^?^  his 

as  almost  to  unseat  hrrider     rAr?  '''^'*^",'>'  ^°^  ^'°'e"% 

l-your  nervous  System  like  this  ?  "  ^'^^^  ''''^  ^^^^^>  "P^' 

■     «e  threw  the  bridle  over  a  h-«.A  a«^    a  ,f- 


pawl,  stood.  ^'''  ^n^^^apped  in  a  whiteifleeq? 

^Lady  Dynely,..  he  said.  lifting  his  hat.  «good-eveiH„g.«. 


M.l'S:±^& 


•*% 


"w 


-  -( 


-"■.■ri  r"tf.'^.-"r*  î;^**N.*--'v-T*^*-'î'^?'^T'^"-^''"î*  ■5*''*^  ^'-rf  ."''' 
-    ,-       ■  .      ^    '■■■  ^ -*-:■.•  -•■    :  ,..,•  ,  "^.-r 


52 


GORDON  CARYLDS  STORY. 


n«f ^l 'l- '^  ^f^^  ^'°r'^  P^^'"«'  ^s  though   for  an  evenino 

alarm— then,  as  the  unexpected  vis  tor  approached  anrf  hZ 
bnght  i.ght  of  the  moon  fell  on  his  facef l^e  hkd  .'uterej  ^ 

yoû'?^°''^°''  ';*  ^^^   ^"^^-      "  Oh,    Gordon  I      Can   it^  be 

She  was  a  pretty  wonian— three-and-twentv  Derh-,nc 
w.  h  a  fa.r  blonde  face,  a  profusion  of  pa  e  bloôde  hat>  a 
tall,  willom-,  fragile  figure.  The  fair  face,  the  plie  bîu^ 
eyes,  ht  up^now  with  genuine  delight  ^  "' 

"I,  Lady  Dynely.     You  hardly  looked  for  me  to-nidit 
did  you  ?    And  yet,  you  must  hâve  known  I  wc^d  corne  " 

..s  hère  to-d.y-she  said  nothiSloVtt'  V^h^^n^^l^u 

fi  JT"^"  ^?T^  ^^°- .  "^"^  ^^  to-morrow  mornina,  by  the    / 

.W  vn '"'  J  l"^"^^  "^^T  ^°^  g°°^'  ^  '•^"  the  risk  of^koYfind!  ' 
ing  you  at  home,  and  rode  over  to  say  good-by  Bv  the 
way,  it's  rather  a  coïncidence,  but  one  Augnst  n,W  / 
year.  ago,  you  and  I  shook  hLds  anï  pt"S  o  Jtt  verî 
spot.  You  were  dressed  in  white  that  night.  toMeme7 
ber,  and  looked  as  you  always  do  look,^4.Âir  SiiiTfâïr" 
and  sweet,  alid  pale  as  a  lily  "  ^      <:oustne,  lair 

■\hei;S«on'i,tL«"'  •""  *eblae,s,a,.led^es  fi«d 
"  Say  good-by-^eave  for  good  !  "  she  repeated.    "  What 

f„     ?'    ,?  ^  '  ''*''*  ^'^n  ■"y  mother.    I  hâve  iust  come 


>■! 


\1  . 


^WJ!lk*QÎHINWU«B!«K' 


>a,  I  remenj- 


ïr 


%m,^^f]--i  .  K  "'^ 


1»  ^ 


I 


CORDON  CARYLDS  STORY^ 


Si 

"  Gordon— cousin,"   she  said,   genilv    '*is  i>   tm»    .u- 
story  ihey  tell,  that  is  in  the  pape?s    hât  a  1  I  nnH     '    '^^ 
wuh  before  we  left  ?    It  muit  be    lue.  and  J^t^^^^^^^  '"^^ 
doM  unless  you  tell  n,e  with  your  o.n  Ups'?  J:^^''^:. 

;'TheA  I  tell  you,"  he  moodily  answered,  "  it  is  true  " 
"  1  bat  you  niarried  an  actress— -in     «i     r-    V    f'., 
said  passionately,  "  Lwould tlh      seeVou  de^d'^"  '     ^''^ 
.       "You  are  not  alone  fti  that    I  fanrJ"  K        -^      -u 
drearily  reckless  laugh.     "  Al  tlLame?L^''''^' •''"''  * 
the  same,  tocml  havt  had  enn„!h  ^f     -       \^^  '^°''^  '^-    ^11  , 
forone  lichSlit  fs  nw  1.^^^       /^^'T'' ^"^  ^'"*^'-"«^^ 
the  cry  against  ne    %i  '  '      "f,'"^,"~^""'^  ^P"  ^^^e  up 

friends  always-let  us  Jo  part  "     ^       ^  ^'^'^  ^^^"^  «"^^ 

'  '^ef's^^:tî:ï'^:-iSt:d^it^tf^^^      ^ 

gazewas  bent  on  ihe  watei-liliè.  in  th.  .     j     u  8'°°"'' 

sure,',  r  p^er  4ir£i„S'ur^  ,T*-',  «"^°^- 

çe™ed,„b„t    ,„„,   he;o:'lrsot*S":i;e^re?°V 

yo„  seeone  looks  ra^/  or  E«  ,han  for'i'î^^'r''"'*' 
one's  niother."  *  "'*^'^V  tnanior  justice  froral 

"But  she  doés  not  mean  it- 
will  repent  and  call  you  back  " 

He  smiied-^a  slo.v,  hard,  inexorable  sniile 
willw'fbet'^Slfe"''^^-     ?-^-^oneisdone.     I 
îiame^he  only  atonement   /V*'"'^'  f  ^"^'^  ^'^8^^^^<ï  »he 
Sl^e  bas  ordered  TefZLLîZ  ""!? k  '^  *°  «"°""<^  i^- 
.nedoesnotwaûTott^^^^^^^^^^^ 


"%^j 


'^^ 


she  speaks  in  anger.  She 


^ 


f  '>! 


.,^ 


*!. 


./" 


$4hH^--. 


r     1  J'fil   ^*^t. 


^•f^-è 


&v 


Ï4"' 


'\fi 


■'■•>_^_.          '  ' ■■i^'w'f»' 

S»Sî%l%»îSl*A«ir«(.w,..-.-   _..; ^„ 

r 

'?t  "■^' ■■''■■ 

54 

• 

GORDON  CARYLDS  STORV.     ■ 

Oh!  how  coiild  she  do  ît!  Gotdon,  r,  tôo.  hâve  a  son 
my  httle  Enc.  and  I  love  him  so  devot'edly.  si  ent're  I Z 
I  feel,  I  knû«r,  no  crime  he  could  commit,  thoulf  KTé 

SotLf  he'  ' '"k^  '-"^^  '°;  °"^  ^^^°"^  change'Lt  love 
Uo  what  he  might-yes,  the  very  worst  man  can  do  f 
would  stiU  lov-  bifti  and  take  him  to  my  heart  "  ' 

Her  pale  face  glowed,  her  pale  eyes  lit,  hêr  voice  arose 
Her  cousin  looked  at  her  tenderly.  ^  *rose 

"I  can  believe  that,"  he   said;  "but  you  see    I  ucii 

and  M.s.  Caryll  are  of  two  very  diflferent  orders.     I  never 
d.d  prefer  the  Sparta*  sort  myself,  ready  to  run  the  knife 

"cordon   ;  T  ''"'f,"^K  ''^'>^^"  ^^«"^^^'  ^"d  is  just." 

tle  I  r/.  ??K         '"^  ^"/^°"^  '^'  ^'^  yo"  ?    I  know  so  lit- 
tle,  I  read  the  papers,  of  course,  but  still—" 

aoie  Story.     Do  you  really  care  to  know ?" 

"  Gordon  !" 

"Oh,  I  know  ail  your  affectionate  interest  in  me  and  rav 
concerns  faitest  coimn,.  and  I  don't  mind  boring  you  wUh 
«ho     ,  ^'w,°^  *^.°""S  fool's  folly.     Folly!  good  heaven 
ahove!     What  a  fool   I  was!     What  a  gullible.  woXi 
hçaded,  nnbecile  idiot  I  must  hâve  been  1  "  ^oodea- 

"You— you  loved  her,  Gordon?" 

J'JIf'  ^^u    ^  J"PP°*«  ,<  was  love,  ihat  bllnd  and  be- 
sotted  fever  her  beauty  and  her  witcheries  threw  me  in?o 
She  was  a  sorceress  whose  accursed  spells  sent  everv  man 
she  met  under  sixty  straightway  out  of  his     enses  ^C 
she  threw  the  rest  over  for  me  (she  had  half  the  battalion  aï 
her  feet)  was  clear  enough.     I  vas  the  youngest,  the  richest 
n?i?     u    ^rT''  ^''  ^"  'r°^°"^°-     She  turned  scores  of 
weddb;rfn!;,''"^rV°  ^*  ^'ï*^  °^  '^^^y  wWch  pgffers 
Ter  to^mS'  J  ^^  °°'^  ^%''.^^'  '^  *'™«^  w»»en  1  ask^d 
K      to  marry  me— you  may  faintly  guess  the  depth  and 
brea^th  of  my  i.nbecility  when  I  tell  you  that."      ^ 

'Shewashandsome,  Gordbn?"  "'""""'^^ 

IfL^'^Lr"'^^^^.'^^?  h^ndsome,  '  Lucia.     Sne  had  a 


àeau/i  du  diable  whôse  like  I  bave  never  sp^n-^ 


-that  no  man 


S^ 


voice  arose 


WmW-' 


..^r,- 


■  ■   ■■■  •     ;  ■ 


CORDON  CAfRYLVS  STORY. 


55 


cou  d  res.st-a  dark,  rlchly-colored,  Southern  soito>beautv 
of  the  earth  earthy.  She  vvas  small  and  slender  whh  â 
warst  you  cou  d  snap  like  a  pipe-stem.  t>vo  large  blâck  eye^ 
hke  a  panther's,  prec.sely,  and  a  smile  that  sent  you  strafght 
«it  of  your  sensés.  AU  the  fellows  in  Toronfo  raxed  o 
her-she  was  the  toast  of  the  mess,  the  talk  of  the  townl 
Only  the  women^ought  shy  of  her-they  took  her^aUe  b, 
ntuition,  I  suppose.  Before  she  had  been  a  week  ii 
Toronto.  Major  Lovell  and  his  daughter  werë /L  700^  n 
ball-room.  and  boudoir,  and  barracks ''  ^   ' 

"She  îva^^a  Miss  LoveU  ? "  Lady  Pynely  asked.  in  a  con- 
str^jned  sortV  tone.     One  hand  sdlPrestedon  his  arm  and 

uo  d''  'inÙ'r  "f  ^'  ^'«"^>^  ^«""^  ^"^  round  th"'fish 
fffi      \   w^  l''^'  ^^'''^  ^^«"^  gone  she  had  been  very  fond 
of  fier  dashmg  boy  cousin  and  playmatéè^very  fond-S 
SIS tedy  fondness  she  told  herself--  nJthihg  more^  " 

the  S'/rîn    i         dreary  year  enough,  with  nothing  but 
the  daily  dnl     the  parade,  the  routine  of  military  lifl  the 

SrS  Catd^n  tr  P'?h  ^'^^  P-vincial  Vtat'ion! 
with  dark  Canadian  belles  to  break  the  monotony.     AU  at 

once  she  came,  and  everything  changed.  Major  LoveU 
brought  h.s  daughter  among  us-and  it  seemed  to  nie  my 
T  nv^fi^^^  ^^  ^^^  ^  disreputable  old  duflfer  enough,  tSï 
Lovell,  a  drunkard,  a  sharper  àt  cards,  a  rooker  at  bflH^d^ 
l.v.ng  on  h.s  half-pay  ànd  his  whole  wit  .  He  was  a  wiS? 
w.th  a  daughter  out  in  Bermuda  with  her  mo^SePs  friS^dl' 
whodechned  to  hve  with  her  rascally  bld  fathir.     Hewas 

oaa  tmies— this  time,  after  a  longer  absence  tl^n  uRnai  k- 
reappeared  with  his^aughter.       ^  T    "'"*^'  ^^   ? 

."  He  met  me  one  bleak  autumn  nîght  loungiU  aimlesslw 
idown  one  of  the  principal  streets,  drefséd  forflheavf stcrt 
Sin^'IS' •  P^^^^P-"i"g  ^t..the  boredom  in  S^vt 


fcing«HmtHed  todeàth  eveii  at  thé  thbÛghrôfwhal 
«  in  stote  for  you.     Wi»y  make  ^^artyr  ôf  yoSrscîJ  Q^l 


Éïv^  rJê'Ud^; 


,^ 


I     :    .  "^-^^  -y^k  '  ^^,f :^î^>%?*^  ^^rr 


56 


GORDON  CARYLVS  STORY. 


i^'- 


\'M 


-,V 


anceship  ?    Throw  over  the  bloated  timber  merchant  corne 
.  to  my  lowly  w.gwam,  and  lefs  hâve  a  friendly  game  at  ecar  e 
ril  g.ve  you  a  deviled  kidney,  and  a  glass  of  The?  y-vou 
can    drop  m  at  Rogers'   when  the  heavy  feedinïs  ov^r 
Bes.des  '-^after  a  pause,  this,  and  with  a  sidelW  ^^^^^ 

1  want  to  show  you  my  little  giri-bless  her  !     Sh|s  con^ 
to^keep  house  for  her  old  dad  at  last.'  ^         ^ 

were  blaclc  or  ye>fe,«r,  justas  the  shifting  firelight  rose  o  fe  1 
^,  i- *°°.?  ''^"^^  "^  ^  ^^"P^fi^d  trance  of  wonder  and  a  1 
^^.r^ion,  the  majoi^s  fat,  unctuous  old  voice  droned  in  my 

"'Rosamond,   my  child— my  youn?  friend    Mr  Parvii 
of  Caryllynne    Devon.  England,  and  Her  MajS  ;£^ 

1:1^^^^''''''''^''^''^'^'  Gordon, .yb^r-i^^ii^s: 

"Then  a  little  brown  hand  slipped  out  to  me  ih,-  rt,* 

"'"rmr"?  *';^  di-Plinglip.  smifed  .^e  h^r    * 

»ha.f  r ,r  gTl'r  '"v^.^/j-g;!''?''  <^'^"  °^  — 


.Xr^H'^  -ip-    , 


5; 

Lovell  ?  '     I 

VVe  must  tr> 

VVhat   with 


■  GORDOl^  CARYLVS  ^TOUY  —  .** 

} 

.     «"-You    djn't    like    Canada    then,    Miss 

managed  to  stanimer.     '  I  ani  sorry  for  thaf. 
and   change  your  opinion  W  it  before  long, 
skating  and  sleighing,  it  jsn't  half  a  bad  place  '* 

."She-pouted  and  laughed  like  a  child.  She  was 
smgularly  ch.ldish  m  forni  and  face,  hardly  boking  sixteen. 
.  "  Not  half  a  Dad  place  !  Where  yoii  grill  alive  three 
simimer  months  and  shiver  to  death  nine  winter  o^ies  Oh 
my  dear  Bermuda  !  Where  the  hearts  were  as  warra'as  thé 
chmate,  and  the  faces  as  siinny  as  th'e  skies.  No  fear  of 
being  lonely,  or  misérable,  or  neglected  there.'.If  papa  vvould 
let  me,  I  would  go  back  to-niorrow.' 

"  '  But  papa  won't,'  the  major  put'in  with  a  chuckle  • 

papa  can  t  spare  his  one  evve  Limb  yet.  Mr.  Caryll  hère  1 
a.«  sure  wiil  do  his  best  to  make  time  pass,  little  one. 
Hark  !  I  hear  a  Tcnocking  in  the  south  entry— the  othei 
fellows  at  last.' 

"Then  with  much  laughter,  and  stamping  and  noise, 
three  or  four  military  men  came  clattering  in  out  of  thé 
coid  and.  damp  darjjness,  and  were  presented  to  'Mv 
daughter,  Rûsamond,' '  ' 

"  ^,/°"''  '*»?"'  how  it  was  with  them  ;  I  can  answer  tor 
mysef-from  the  first  moment  I  looked  on  Rosamond 
Lovell  s  face  I  lost  my  head.  You  knowTne  well  enou^h. 
Lucia,  the  speaker  broke  off  with  a  half  laugh,  "to  know 
I  never  do  that  sort  of  thing  by  halves.  But  this  was  différ- 
ent from  anything  that  had  gone  before.  I  looked  on  those 
wonderful  dusky  eyes  only  once,  and  said  to  myself,  'I  wiU 
wui  Rosa,mond  Lovell  for  my  wife,  if  it  be  in  the  power 
of  mortal  man  to  wm  her.'  * 

"  1  lost  no  time  in  setting  about  my  wooing.  No  wonder 
the  other  fellows  laughed.  They  admired  old  Lovell'a^ 
daughter,  toc,  no  doubt— that  was  a  matter  of  course— but 
not  to  the  depth  of  lunacy.  They  left  that  for  me.  I 
declmed  écarte,  I  declined  deviled  kidney,  declined  the 
doubtful  sherry- 1  was  sufficientlv  intoxicated  already. 
Ihe  ,,eerles3  Rosamond  smiled  upoAje  but  shyly  ;  she  was 


açcastonved  to  such^»dden  and  overpowering  devbtion 
-Uinid  «ngelj    StiU,  she  did  srailc,  awj  tel  me  ;Lomi,àn" 


f',. 


^wt"*^ 


s& 


GORDON  CARYLVS  STORY. 


l^' 


her  to  the  distant  corner  where  the  piano  stood,  whik  tha 
other  nien  played  for  ponies  in  the  distance,  and  the  major 
with  great  impartiahty  fleeced  ail  alike.  She  pHi}^d  for  me 
on  the  jingly  piano  ;  she  sang  for  me  in  a  rich  contralto. 

"I  can  see  her  now  as  she  sat  there  that  first  fatal  night, 
in  a  pink  dress,  white  roses  in  her  belt  and  in  her  bosom, 
the  lamplight  streaming  across  her  rich,  dusk  loveiiness. 
Paugh  !  the  smell  of  white  roses  will  turn  me  sick  ail  -ray 
life. 

**  It  was  late  when  we  broke  up,  and  Miss  Lovell,  shrink- 
ing  pettishly  froni  the  other  nien,  held  out  her  hand  with  a 
soft  good-night  ^p  me.  I  went  out  froin  the  warm,  bright 
room,  into  the  black,  rain-beaten  midnight,  with  head  and 
hf  art  iri  a  Whirl.  The  others,  not  too  pensive  over  their  losses 
at  first,  chafFed  me  clumsily,  but  the  hospitable  piajor  had 
bled  them  ail  so  freely  at  écarte,  that  their  deadly,  IJvely 
jokes  soon  lapsed  into  raoody  silence.  To-morrow  evening, 
they  were  to  go  back  for  their  revenge,  and  the  friendly 
major  had  asked  me  too. 

"  'Though  you  ^id  throw  us  over,  Caryll,  my  boy,'  he 
said  in  his  big  flebonnaire  voice,  'you'll  keep  little  Roaie 
froni  nioping  herself  to  death.  Yes,  yes,  corne  to-niorrow  and 
fetch  her  the  new  songs.  She  has  a  passion  for  music,  my 
little  one,  and  a  voice  that  would  make  Lind  look  to  hei 
laurels  if  the  poor  old  dad  could  aflFord  to  cultivate  it.' 

"I  tossed  fejKîrishly  thi'ough  the  dark  morning  hours. 
♦  Rosamond  1  Rosamond  !  '  I  kept  repeating  ;  ♦  there  is 
«lusic  in  the  very  name,  miisicinher  voice  when  she  speaks, 
fluisic  celestial  in  her  tones  when  she  sings.  And  to  think 
that  my  little  white  "  Rose  of  the  World  "  should  be  daughter 
to  such  a  confounded  old  cad  as  that.  But  iwill  marry  \\e, 
and  take  her  home  to  Caryllynne  and  ray  mother,'  I 
thought  ;  and  I  could  picture  to  myself  my  mother's  whole 
heart  going  out  in  love  and  welcome,  tp  her  son's  fair 
young  bride.  I  didn't  much  fear  a  rejection — I  was  conFti- 
tutionally  sanguine,  and  she  had  been  as  kind  as  heart  could 
désire.  Unless — and  I  grew  cold  and  hot  at  the  mère 
(ancy— unless  she  had  left  a  lover  behind  in  Bermuda. 
— -^  At  the  very  eartiest  possible  hour  ncxt  mornii^  1 


Wi,  '> 


fl'î'5?Jp|~"*i«i'?'^      S-^'. 


t  »">»  <*, 


■^/m^i^' 


■■      '  GORDON  CARYLVS  STORY 

All^'h?;oli|tld   bes7"  Oh  ?''  '°"  fr'.°^  "-  ' 
"  *  By  letting  me  corne  to— tosee  you  everv  dav      Tîv     " 

I  hngered  for  hours,  while  she  tried  over  the  &c,r^X  ^^À 
d,ml^  reahzed  two  facts  :  that  her  knowledge  of  pfano 

US.C  was  but  meagre  after  ail,  and  that  shf  had  S  Aery 
little  to  say  for  herself.     Only  dimiy  •  I  was  m.,rh  i^-^ 


\t- 


■•'%. 


;4 


;ijtti^/.fJ:-.-.V..?: 


j     ; 


5-7 


\ 


60 


GORÙgj^  CARYLVS  STORY. 


L^y  HuleTv'e?  '"'nJ^'^'  and  glared.  fiercety  ont  of  I,û 
iicry  niiie  eyes.  '  Not  to  insuit  him,  surely  !  A  noor  min 
he^m.ght  be-alas  I  was,  but  al.ays  kn  ofiiL  and'a  gentS, 

liftll^f"!  ^^  stopped  sonorously  to  blow  his  nose.  «  Very 
i-lave  I  taken  a  viper  into  the  bosom  of  înv  faniilv?' 
Gordon  r'  old  .htrn^bug,  melodramatically  *  V^  Mr 
Sne  the  r  '  /""  ^'^  >^''  *°  ^  ^^'^^  estate 'and  for,' 
£^l^^hl^T■°^l"  ^""'^"^  ^"^  distinguished  line;  it  i, 
âlso  true  that  I  am^.but  one  remove  from  I  ,,aup<;r,  sti  1--^ 

tin^s^o'^t'^h^TH"'  '^^''^l!''  Jt^"^^o"t.  împe'tu^u  y  eut. 
tmg  short  thisrhQdomontade.  '  What  bosh  are  you  talking  ? 
1  nean  what  I  say,  I  mean  it  more  than  I  ever  meanf  w 
thing  ,„  .„y  1,^.  Insult-nonseifse  !  I  loveyour  S  g£ 
and  I  ask  yoiHto  give  her  to  me  for  my  Jfe  wë  hlvê 
known  each  other  but  aweek,  it  is  true^  wkat  of  t  at? 
Love^is  not  a  plant  of  slow  growth-it  can  spnn^un  Se 
the  gourd  of  Jonas,  fully  grown  in  a  night.'      '^'""^"^  ^'^^ 

m.  ï         :  l  ""^^  ^^""^  ^^^^  that'somewbere.     It  struck 
me  even  at  the  t.me  as  sounding  rather  absurd.  and Ilooked 

was  ?or  h^h^dT '■  r  Nodoubttheoldvnian    • 

"  'And  she— my  Rosamond,'  he  said,  at  leneth  in  a 
vo^ce  husky  with  e.notion  and 'much  whike^un^dt-ln^y 
•httle  one.  who,  only  a  year  ago,  it  seéms  to  me,  playèd  ^l 
her  do  Is,  and-and  marWes,  and-er-that  sort  of  thTnl 

"non        't'  '^'  '^J"^""^  ^  ^^°"^^"'  ^"'i  ^eturns  you  -L'f; 
—  pon  my  hfe,  very  flattering  passion  ?  ' 

"I  smiled  exultantlyas  1  recalled  a  Httle  sceiïe  of  last 


•": 


»ï   . 


^...~.„  X,  wu.uMig   miss  Kosamond  Love  l's  .two  hands   in 

pSn'^Vnd  ?h'  'r',  \^!l^P^-î'^l  story'Tcon'su t  g 
^  -^'?^.  the  hands  had  not  been  drawm  aw«y^...itf^ 


u  th.  cxquisitc  face  drooMm:th;'di;;;  li^hrsis 


:>.r. 


^ 


'*"  '>^-^/iâ'-î4 


<  GORDON  CARYLÎTS  STORY.  g^ 

;'«^e.d  that  .hich  had  „,ade  .e  the  happiest  n,an  6^ 

sanction.     And   I  hooed  h7  J.  m^  '^'''   "^^^^^    ^""^  his 
beihg  at  once.     Urnèed  w^^lher^jH^  'f  "^"'^^'^ 
âge.  and   two  months  over-what   n.fn   ^^ 
-^     wantedtomakesMreormyprùe.      ^'"^   '^   ^^^^^^^       ' 

consenting  at  first     She  wif .  "'^"^^  ^  ^^'H  "^  ""t 

^:as    so    fcandaously  short     whr""^7.°"în^*^^"^'"^^"^«^ 
to  be  thoiight  oX.  '""'«er  say  ?    The  thiqg  was  not 

Tc^c^P^^Sp'Ï^I;:';^^     ]fl-'tdidit„,.tter«vJ.,.\ 

".other  had  no  thot?ght  b»tTr  If?  ^"^  '     ^^  ^^^'^^^  ^«d 
-consent  was  ail   S   ^ut  for  my  happmess  ;  theirultîftîafe  \ 

world's  tOnm,e   le"fhemnJ       k  ^^^'  '^  ^e.  dreaded    the  ^ 
he  pleased.^ml  in  a  nZ  hf;'  P*^"^'"'  -""^'^^  P"vateas 
could  get  ieave  ôf  ab  encl  'l  an^  "'°"'l?''  or  whenever-^ 
EngJand.     When  the  S^'       ^""^  '"^  ^'^^  ^«"'^  «ail  for  - 
out'    Marryn/ydldU^ius^^  ' 

portable,  etc.,  etc    ^tc  '         ""'"^"^  ''^^  ^^^  irtsup- 

\^^^^^t^^^^  i  -f  '  that  ti.e. 
that  in  the  da^  ofour  first  vô^,,^hP'V^'''^  '^^'  ""^'-  ^^ss 

female^acquaintancT?  v^Dnli;.!  .°'^'^°"'^  ^^^  '^"^  «"e 
course,  was  bridesmLd  ^n^%-^^  ^^"sic-teacher^she,  o£ 
-an.  Ve  were  SedTn  tK^^^^  o^  Ours,:^as  best 
aufm«naroiorning,al  ôhtheauiet  rfr  P^'^"""'  ^"'^  ^^«^ 
bridesmaid.  ail  promised  sec^recv  & "»"' roonisman, 
the  cpttage  with  her  father  as  b/f"-  '^''  retnamed  at . 
the  town.     I  did  not  write  to  In  ^  ^^^^  "^^  ''^o^^s  in 

^nough  for^all  that"î  tEh     \""°""S^  '«T  marriage-tirae  . 


>2^ 


> 


*  fi 


would  hâve  to  look  io 


•»; 


.^  ,.* 


4-*  r      *•  ;v''>''^'/^J*'f-«^eC(?#<'^P^"«Pi-^ 


ii  : 


*    4 


f 


H, 
•  *- 


{  t 


62 


""OXDOAT  CAHYLVS  sTOXy. 


;      figer     The   story  of   n^  S  m   ^""^  "'^^  °"^  «^^^et  no 
sf"",  I  nuist  hâve  seen  thp  M^i/^  W'ndness  was  upon  me 

But  l  saw  nothiL,  susDerflï      amusement  and  contemot 
came,  ù  fell  iike  a'^S  ^  "„&  ^"^  ^^^  th.^W 
I  hâve  sa  d  this  «rîrl  r  u  a   '""^5"- 

J'fe  ;  she  fo4d  me  to  thelL  „f  ^"k  "^""^^"-^^'^  ^o  the 
Meve  her  whole  heart  was  nZe   "'^'^^JM  she  mad*  me 

matrnnonyshe  held  her  dune",»  i'  ^^^^\^°^^  «"ontJ,s  of 
he  first  day.  Somethrng^^;:;/^  0^^ '^^  ^^'yed  as  on 
'east  I  saw.  She  looked  at  ml  »?  .•  ^"^  """^'  ''^''A  at 
feared  me;  she  looked  at  L  -  ^^  *""^^  «  though  she 
l"n).  The  old  fellow  had  taken  to'/'  f'?^"^^  she  feared 
ever,  had  been  at  death'sdoor^ùt^'',"  •'''"«  tarder jLhan 
than  once  since  my  miriacï^  «'"h  dehnum  tremensCre 

after^abbled  of  wh^atThaTCe'  "  '"'  ^"^^  <^  ^--d 
.  /.vve  hooked  him  sir'  fi,»  *• 

legs,  -hooted  him  I,k/fh„'  '"««ingon  his  rickelv  oS 

«...pot  ïïd^ïlÇ^Slt"  ''^°'^^'  «'  "f  !>•  T..  a„a  I 
h;."  «.Il,  nursed  hl„i  fairWalfa^d'devoS^.'^^'T'"'''  "'h 

'"•  ^^vrrd'«r:is™3^^^^^^^^^  *"'"  "'"• 


JBhc  wottl4  pfea^^^ 


I 


— *— » 


Ji-^  ■ 


Aii4 


.:  :  .>i  •    î2| 


r-».«Bs»««„.„. 


4 


f  -'*•;■'-  ^1  l^f>:'^.^ 


GOJ^DOJV  CARYLDS  S  TORY, 


■•c^ 


.1,  ^s 

•keep  away— don't  eo  în      vA., 

wants  no  one  but  me  '  "  ""^^  *^*P''  ^^e  feyer.   «He 

fceep  me  from  seeing  him  Off  ^L  °'u  *"^^  ''^  ^^^ce  to 
as  a  ruie  he  had  hif  wT  abouf  him  th°n  ."  ^"/  ^^^'"°"«.- 
like  a  satyr.to  the  last  "  ^''°"g'  '  and^ould  griiT 

never  cared  about  her  ànd  it  t^^i^  i  '^**'^^'  ^hough.      7 
^       sl^ame.  to  go  off  hooks''  you  LTf^^  ^  ^^^'"«'  ^  «^"«-ser» 

"  '  Not  tell  what  ?  '  î  askerf^^'   .""^  °°'  ^^"•' 

"MVever  you  n.ind  P^a'  ^^'°^^- 
fastenough.  'C:i„'tSS"ba7sor^H  ^^"'^  ''^^  '*  -•' 
and  rm  sorry-yes  l'm  sorry  I  did  i^  ^^^  >^  ^^ou  are. 
unhandsome  triclc  4  one  gentleman  Vn  Y^'  ^  ^«^'''«h  -^ 
but  Jt  was  good  fun  at  the  rime  Th?.  ^t^  **"  «"other  ; 
admit  yourself.  Hu^h-h  Miere  4^  ^  ^°"  "  ^^  ^««-ced  to 
/ï-^.    m  tell  you  ail  by  and  by  '  '"^  "°'"^^'  "«'  ^  ^ord  to 

to  diliS'^t^Stt^^^r ^^  ^'^°  ^  b"^  I  -t  it  dowa 
eyes  from  his  face  to  m,;?  ^°°^'"«  ^"*^  ^^^^k,  appreheS 

.  J^ot/i  ng  ^^«  w,yuld  care  to  hear  p     • 

four  months— I  was  destined  fo  i?^  ""^«^ness  had  lasted  over      " 
.    "Themajoîsanklower   ^nd^'^^^s^ll^again. 
near.     Rosamond  never  refthlr''  ,%'ast.hour  was 
«rove  mth  ail  her  migh    to  kee^Tf,'"  ''^"^"'^  '  «^e  stilî 
wonder  now  she  did  not  h»c.     ' l"^  ^P^""^     ^  sometimes 
capable  of  it.  I  belleve       '"'''""  '^'^  *^°'*-    «he  was  quke 

cot.age"\';;f  ;,Lriy  'reac;;èd  mJ'^S  *?""•-    ^  '^'^  ^«ft  the 


..    \. 


^^   '..^*l 


iï 


;  •  J'if  ■ 


r:  iiV- 


i. 


:  -\ 


H 


% 


GORDOlf  CARYLVS  STORY. 


«> 


able  fJepression  had  weighed  upon  me  ail  day:  niy  wife  was 
ç4..gdy  changea  of  late  ;  I  could  not  un^rstarid  l7er 
Tli*  nK.)or  was  very .  low.  almos(«at  Jiis  last.  What  ,fTe 
Aed  wrnîe  I  was  absent,  Rosamond^and  the  sèrvant-maid 
ail  alone.  I  turned  hastily  back  •  I  would'  S^rJ^ 
deor  gul's  vigil   I  thought-na^,  I  would  c^m^i  ^'l  ^ 

"  I  returned  to  the  house,  and  entered  softly.     The  maid 
servant  was  alone  m  the  sick  room.     Miss  losamo^JSad 
fallen  asieep  at  her  post  from  sheer  weariness,  and  had  been 
persuaded  to  go  (p  her  own  room  and  lie  don^i  ^^^" 

T  A    nu-  ,i  ^"'.^^  "Sht,'  l  said  ;  '  I  will  share  your  watch 
I  don't  thmk  he  wilLiast  out  the  night  '  > 

'   toSar''  '"'*''  "^''  opened-a  c^nning  leer  in  them 
ourtlfe^^nlD  ^^'•^°"' '«y-boy-don't  you  think  l'il  last 

l/p-stairs  m  her  own  room,  açleep.' 

"  ;  ^^hat  s  nght.     When  the  cafs  away  the  micecan  olav 
Send  th^t.wo,nan  back  to  the  kitchen-I've  a  worHr  two 
for  your  pnvate  ear.'  .     ^  «*  wora  or  two 

"  I  obeyed.     The  woman  went.  "  .  ' 

^iZ^fV'"''^  ^^^-  ^J?"''  ^^^  "■  g°°^  f«"o«^.  and  corne  hère 
u  ed     And''  r  "^'^^  '  fT'  S°"^'  -"d  l'  can't  ^W  as  f 
used.     And   I   sayMook   hère,   Caryll  !  no   violence    voii 
know      l'm  an  o  d  mari,  and  l'm  dying,  and  l'm  sSrrï^  . 
;.yes,  blessed  if  I  ain't-that  I  ever  fooled  you  as  I  did^    aÏÎ 
the  rejmration  l<;an  make,  I  will  make-that's  fair  s'urelv 
No«vhsten,  hère,  Caryll;  this  has  been  a  put-up  'obToS 
first  to  last.     Rosamond's  not  my  daughter  /  '        ^  ^ 
.  '"  Not  your — '  ^ 

"  I  sat  staring  at  him  aghast.         ' 

"  '  Not  my  daughter— no,  by  George  !     Mv  dauahfpr  fh« 

T  '5  .^?r^^'  y°"  '^"°^^'  •«  in^BermudVstl    and  a 

deuced  hard-featured  young  woman-takes  after  her  mother 

and    wouldn't    touch    her    disreputable   ^Id    d«i  wîth  i 


'»""■ 
.»i^ 


Si--" 


i 


CORDON  CARYLDS  STORY. 


05 


isn't  my  daughter.     I  don't  know  who's  dmighter  she  is 

but  she's  nothing  to  me.'  ^^^^  ' 

"I  sat  stunned,  dumb,  listening.      If  m  y  life  had  d^ 

bâteinton  ^^"r^''''^  ''  ^^«' q^rylV  the  dying  old  repro, 

\-n    jTI  V   ï    •  '•     ^'  ^^'  '"^  ^^^  York  I  met  lier  first- 
Zr^y      7°'^'  u""'^  ^  •"°""'  ^^«^«'•e  I  brought  her  hère 
Strolhng  down  the  Bowery  one  night  I  went  inïo  a  concerî* 
rooni,  or  music-hall,  of  the  lowest  ^orf      Ro.„       ^^"cert. 
<»;fU  *u  •    L  ^  •»  "*  luc  luwcsc  sort,     iiowerv   rou<'hs 

■     Th       I     K^^'  u°"  ^"^  cigarsjn  their  niouths,  vvere  S 

It  was  then,\uting  there  and  lookingafherthat  de     «; 
among  the  feUows    St.     k^  «oft-headed.  soft-hearted  foo 


fe^fc^^>3rXS^ 


'•#■ 


î  ■;    '  '   ",  "  -^  ?*Çç>  -  -^v  ,0:-  '#  r;,  j,  ^  *i^,-*,,^î«.  ^. 


.'     \ . 


66 


GORDON  CARYLVS  S  TORY 


even  then-^e's  the  heir  to  one  of  the  finest  fortunes  in  tha 

tigate.    The  thirtg's  ivorth  trying.     Of  course  whenthi? fi  k^ 
is  hooked  /corne  in  for  the  lion's  ^har^    Ècarte's  no.  «n 
unprofitab^  amusement,  but  there  n.ay  be  better  thinîsin 
U>is  wicked  world  even  than  écarte  ^ 

*  n  /lîml"^^'  *  ''"■"'^  •  '  »^e^-even  you  must  own  that.    I  lost 

the   œni^TJod'rr-     ?""^«d  up  Rosa.nond"  beS 

rne  scènes.     Cood  GedJ  such  scènes!  and  there  and  thf'n 

•        had  a  longand  fatherly  talk  wiih 'her.     She  gave  me  her 

sn^rno'rS"^'  '  iSf  '^^^  "°  l^^^-^^'  "olieTds  to 
fr^fk    î'        relations.     She  never  /w//  Iwd  a  father  so  far 

'       t^' yea"s'ri'e  '^L'^^""^-  .^^-^  of  ^mothertd  dieJ 
debut^ia^rl^^^^^^^  XS  rat^r: 

«nH  */  ^^î  î^"*^'"?^  °^  '"J'  plan.that  night.     I  slept  upon  it 
and  fouild  it  rather  strengthened  than  oiherwise  hv  JhLt 

'  K  .      J:  "^T^  "''  ^"'  Rosamond  On  ,Wte  lif^  tv 

called  her  Sally)  next  morning.  in  her  Bowerl  attic!  and  kid 
my  plan  before  her.  Gad,  Caryll,  how  sbe  ju.  ped  at  ?  1 
Her  eyes  ghttered  at  the  mention  of  the  fini  d  esses  and 
gay  jewelry-she  had  ambition  beyond  her  suhere  had 
w^rV.^'"'"^  f'^^  ^^  un^holesome  hght  litSatur;  and 
wasequal  oanything.  I  found  her  cleverer  eten  E'an  I 
had  dared  to  hope-the  girl  had  been  more  or  lels  educat  »d 
at  ajpubhc  school,  apd  could  actually  talk  well  The  nelro 
minltrel  gentleman  thrashed  her  wLn  heîot  rfrnnt  ^k 

bvX  fo  f  '^^  ''^  ^".'  u^^»^^™-"  atod'tefto  ^^ ,'  îhlm^ 
Vnrt       A^'  "^"*^i  ""^  '^'^  ^'"^y  Q"a«ier  Latin  of  Ne™ 
Yor>,  and  eager  and  ready  to  go. 

n^l'^^r^K  îl^r^  *°  "^^^^^  ^°'*^s,  Caryll-the  thing  was  an 

.l'TK^&^'acTe^SS 

^ish  fly  walked  headIoDg  in  at  first  sight.    You  m^ 


■#i-- 


'fg»^ 


<?O^Z>QAr  CAJtyzL'S  STOÂY. 


and  wonld  finish.     I  held  the  dHnk  r^  K-^'P*"^  ^°  ^^^^  «"d 
da.ed  .o«  of  .a„  T.  too  -LX  îlfi^e  tlS^^^^ 


yet. 


th*  bond,  but  she  is.  ànd  her  effhrfc  r T^"'  .  ^^^^  ^^^n't  in 
die  and  "„,ake  no  ig^?'  S  wo  .f  ^k'  ^"^^  *°  '^^^^  '"« 
I  ani't  snch  an  out-and  o^^A^       ^  \  ^^"«'"  cause.    But 

_.when.he's  going  to  die      So  pL       ^^^  *  '"a»  anygood 
•«y  boy.  and  ySu  can  do  as  vn„°^f  ^  ^  '^'^^^  breastff?^ 

spoonyon  herfi  knoVand  if^vo„^  l^"^- .  ^°"'^«  ^«'f"»y 
about  II-,  cf.w  t-  u       .'  *""  "  you  hfce.  wir  c^.,  „„.i..-  ^  ; 


: "<».iicu  gins  JJke  Rosiê— anH  où"     V     .     '-'tner  nien 

Jhnll  cry  of  horrorf  riotVkU,\^.^^^^d  "P  both  hands  wiSi  I 

I  was  out  in  the  black  storrf.  h    l    ^^^  "^^^  ^  remember 

"Pon  midnight.    At  thât  hn    ^^^j^î"  ^'^^^t-    It  was  close 

nooneabrofdin  Toront    Tw^eel  of  ^'^^  ^^°™  ^h-'-^: 

through  my  brain,  some  nahiÏ!     "^^  r'f  "^^««d  crashin» 

"Pon  me.    In  a  stjpefied  watTi?''  ^^^'^^  ^°"-o^  hadfalJef 

«nore.  And  then-a» \nln\l}jT-  *=?.n«cious  of  that-of  no 

had  passed  and  rhllZ^xSl^^i  "u  ^"™"^  *°  ™e  the  nLh° 


'y«^- And  thV  ïïs';i.T'î;tf^",yf  th,  S^ 


^T 


% 


■i 


s 


..  r 


•'"•'''♦•^'V. t  •♦ï'' , 


^,r.y,^m^m^^ 


68 


OO/tDOAT  CARYLVS  STORY. 


I 


..  o!  •■  '">'  ""■"•  <=5oive—to  hâve  her  life,  and 

n?more,  I  S  (o"Q;e£''r  '"■'""'"«  Canada  10  relu™ 
l'iroiigh  Québec,  of  coiir<ie  .„,  •  *  ^^^  «tory  had  run,r 
"lade  no  mention  of  it  anH  in?-  .  j     '  ^'^^  ^'»<1  o  d  eenerni 

the  Enehanted  Palace*  -vnAW  î"^^    Slfepîng  Beantv  of 

"oi-tal  name  was  Mrs    ri  /-^^'^^P'-esem  instance  h!. 


/■ 


^i  ^ 


li^^-*»>'4'fei 


/^ 


^OZ-Z^OA^  -C^JfyZj^.S  sroj^y 


erthedeardepaitta. 


,/^fa'<i;    'hères 
^<?  blonde^  or>/,^ 


i^'ke  a  flash  me  truth  camé 
,    "'*^ost    thrJIing    indeedi 
.      to^rarosnerr     *Vhifh  are  wj 

I  believe  at  lir#kl»'i^n  •     j°  "^^  ^een  mir  wife    f 
*an,e  ,ha,  Uuk7JZtS:^î  "'  '*'''>  »f'^^  «  Pause  ■  «  ,h. 


<^ 


ti  i 


ii 


/> 


■      ,t. 


P-    * 


70 


GORDON  CARYLVS  S  TORY. 


put  at  once.     VVhèn  pne's  life  cornes  to  an  end  at  home  it 
js  well  to  be  of  some  service  abroad.     And  so,  Lucia,  mv 

s'^d^bSê  iTo."  '''-'  '-''   '''  '"^  ^°°^^>'  -^^  ^ooJ 

He  took  both  her  hands,  looking  down  into   the  fair 
dropping  face.  ♦ 

"Andyoïi  "  he  went  on,  "are  you  happy,  T,uda?    You 

:  arepaleandfrailasashadow.     Tellme,  does  Dynely-"  he 

t'ISaway'  ^'■^" '^^': .  ^ands  from  his  clasp,  her  face'sùl! 

''I  made  a  mercenary  marriage,"  she  answered,  sudden 
coldness  and  hardness  in  her  tone  ;  "  that  you  knovv  Ail 
the  happiness  such  marriages  bring,  I  hâve.     While  I  possess 

Z  P' ^'qJ,7  1  T'^^  '^"  "fr^  ^^  """^^y  '"iserabll.  Gor- 
"  vJ  1,  '^oï^^d  "P  suddenly,  her  fair  face  crimsoning. 
"You  knew  Lord  Dynely  before  his  raarriage-you  were 
with  him  one  autumn  in  Ireland,  were  you  not  ?  Tell  me—" 
the  stopped. 

"Welli,  Lucia?     What?" 

"  It  niay  be  only  fancy,  but  I  /lavi  fancied  Ihere  is  some 
-some  secret  connected  with  that  Irish  summer.  It  is 
seven  years  ago--you  were  only'a  boy  at  the  time.  Still— " 
agam«%he  paused  confusedly. 

"Well?"        .  ^        .  %  . 

Tor/n'^  r'  •i'  *'"^'  "°  S^à"°  P«^sa"t  girl  to  whom 
Lord  Pyneljfpaid  attention  tÏRt  summer  in  Galwav?  I 
hâve  heard  a  rumor-"  for  the  third  time  she  broke  off,  afraid. 
it  seemed,  to  go  on.  ^  «^naiu, 

Her  cousin  looked  at  her  in  some  surprise. 

"You  knowwHft  Lord  Dynely  is^was,  I  mean,  in  his 
bachelor  days."  he  said.  quietly.  "  an  admir;r  of  ever;  pretty 
girl  he  met  whfether  peeress  or  peasant.  There  were  many 
handsome  SpanislWooking  women  to  be  seen  that  long  aeo 
summer  we  spent  fishingat  the  Claddagh.  on  the  ollwly 
coast.     His  lordship  adSled  them  ail,  I  am  bound  to  sS  ; 

Dnîî.l'L  /^'^  *°  "^y*  i'^P^ially.  so  far  as  I  could  iTe 

Don  t  take  fancies  mto  your  hild,  Lucia-facts  are  enough. 

^4mw  I  musiLgp.    3yJove  1  hoy  the  time  iHia^owft  h-f 


m 


have  kept  you  hère  an  uncpnscionable  time  in  the  falling  dew 


.xu  iCj>"  *ïftS. 


t'iS,.^,,'n 


ï\tL'J,"j}>  -"V^Ai*^ 


î*i>*j 


^''■t,    4 


-•   "3 


w»"»*  #  +i'^ 


home,  it 
ucia,  my 
nd  good 

the  fair, 

?  You 
y— "he 
face  still 

sudden 
vv.  AU 
possess 
le,  Gor- 
isoning. 
•u  were 

me — " 


GORDON  CARYLVS  STORY. 

more,  good-by."  ^°'"  '"^-     ^'"'^6 

hefcl^^et"  tetotiudtnlv'  .'^"*  '°"'"  ^"^  ^°-hed 
"  Oh    Gordnn  ^      fuddenly  mto  a  passionate  sob.^ 

goj..    '   ^°'^^°"'    ^°"«^"'  "breaks  my  heart  to  sec  you 
Hesniiled.  ' 

"  It  is  best  so,"  he  said. 


-«41 


»« 


s  some 

It  is 

3till— " 


as 


:-^ 


whom 
ly  ?    In. 

afraid, 


in  his 
pretty 
many 
igago 
ralvtuiy 

>s4; 
i  see. 
lough. 


'4-- 


.«<> 


».,' 
•^ 


• 

# 

•      (  ■ 

- 

,     >"'■■■': 

- 

■  •  ■ 

■■*■/ 

« 

« 

,i'-i^\u- 

ÉÉëft^É^ 

iÉAic 

. 

MMMWiieMiii'  'jjiw^iny  ■^m^mmmmm^^^ 


±.:'-^ 


I  ^' 


II 


■  .Si-  '  " 


t^. 


CHAPTER  VII.       «^ 

HOW   LORD  VISCOUNT  DYNELY   DIED. 

?ALF  an  hpur  had   passed   away,   and  still   L^. 
Dynely  paced  slowly  where  her' cousin   had  ifft 
her.  heedl^ess  of  fallirig  dev..  her  thin  dinner  dress 
danip  and  heavy  ' already  in   the   night      Tn  fhf 
days  thatwere  gone  she  had  be/n  very  fond  pf  her  bov 
cousin,  three  years  her  junior  in   actual  years   twentv  in 

Thou^  :n  °'"  '°^,  ^'"^S'"^"^-     There  hadTev^r  E^^^ 
;f°"ght  of  love  or  love-making,  marrying  or  giving  in  nm 

K'.nH    rT'^''"^°'  '^'^  ^^^  givenVisfount  Syndr 
her  hand  of  her  own  free  will,  and  yet,  die  sharpest  keeS 

he"^fir!/h*"'i  Jf  °"«y  she  had  ev'er  felt,  she  h^d  feU  when 
she  first  heard  of  Gordon  Caryll's  marriage  Not  a  3^ 
fierce  pang  though,  after  all-lt  might  iave  been  ^lidS 
her  as  of  Lady  Jane,  in  the  poeni  :  "*  °' 

"  5^'"?^^  *^  ^^^'  mUk-white  her  skin  : 
bhe  has  not  blood  enough  to  sin." 

Dynely  and  twentfeth  Baron  Can|erdZn  Sh^'hln  k"°' 
taken  up  to  London  at  eighteen.  auTpre'entedttr  kfnT 
woman    the  Countess  of  Haldane.    She  «ras  tall  \Un.Z^ 

r  ??  A    T     ^Jl^*"  '°^'P'^  *°  somè  tastes,  but  she  suiteS 
LoM  Dynely.    Hecame  horaefrom  a  yachting  cruisearoùnH 
Norway  and  the  Hébrides,  presen.ed  himself  sudden,^^^ 
Vanity  Fair,  the  most  désirable  prize  of  the  mail  Sl^. 
«onsand  estâtes  in  four  counties  a  viUa  aiTv^       u^"' 


'  :'^^''-'^^'' 


\. 


'./jêi'u'^'i*'-* 


■jÈ^^Lx^^i^^i'^i» 


•-vwtmmmn\^v^,^-<W^ 


like  a  perennial  golden  river     R«  ^  1  ^^ 

Jongbeen  angled  for  (his  nobl'e  I^H  k'^^'  ^  P"^*  ^hat  had 
fortieth  year).  niaids  aid  Woni  h  h  '^  '"^^  '"  4  ^ve-and. 
and  set  ^heir  wigwan,3  l^'^;:rion/aï/"  theXarpain  , 
for  I  ,m.     But  in  vain  :  .his  «i& ,  "1^  ^"^  '"any  A  day  ago 
.^dmired  ail,  ballerinak  as^feu      ^""g  «  notelt'     g"^   ' 
actresses  more  than  duchesses     4,^^-^ '^^"  bLnes^s! 
he  saw  Lucia  Paget  bv  no  itf        ."*  '^'^  «^^y  came\at  last      • 
and  after  his  own^'  '„p^tuou?ai  ""'  ''."^"^^  «^  thetasc^^ 
catjon  was  concenied^K  /„  th^l^'*"^^  '^'^  ««mLatifi! 
and  surrendered  at  di;creS^  Jjf  ^onge  to  Fate  at'Vnce 
and  the  wedding-day  named  h.?   ^IT'^à'  «^as  acceL^ed 
Çoverits  breath^   It  was  h.  i^  ?^  ^^"'^>'  ^^^''  coul  re 
msipid  nonentity-thlf  Kl    A  ""r""^^^  ^'^  *e  day— tCLir 
^>5a/  did  he  sef  in  £  ?    ^^'  ^"^^'^'^"^  ^  worn^ut  ro?"   ' 

'>':  fee^^^rL?^^' -^  fWn  W  haTdLrJ 
■         "h:  wt  v^Tr!;  ^f  wert^^frt^^^  '-''   ^^-1^^ 

yet  loyal  hère.     He  took  itr  oS /^  "  P'-°''«'-'>,  i|e  was 

then  returhed  to  Endand    «,?.?  u  ®  Continent  foràvear 

Lord  Viscount  Dynelftas  th  "r  '^"  "'"««  Enc   "^S 

r-^e  most  devoted^rCblnâ:  °l7V°''"^^^^r^^^^^ 

\      son  a  change  came  over  him      R    .  ^T*"  ^^^  ^'^h  of  his 

;nto  moody,  darksome  rêve  Ss  h?  H  °°''  .*  ^^'"^  ^f  falli„  ' 

unpleasant  hints  of  some  S  doi„t°^P\^  "ysterious  ^5 

gloomjly  of  his  infant  heir^d  f om^L'"  -^^  ^J"'"'  ^^  «pS 

«oman's  nainéin  hisdisTS^ÏÏi   ""  ■»*•     He  sMire  . 


■1 


4  ^^^'^  nwr^^nd  more  afiid  of  Hm 

r 


■V  ,  ■ 


■M^ 


s* 


M         ^OIV  LORD   VISCOUNT  Dy^^lY  DÏÊD.    . 

'     '  ■  •  j  /  X  -' 

as  the  years  went  on.  Years  didgo  onJ  Eric  wâs  five  •  tlj^s 
secret,  whatever  it  might  be,  wa«  Lord  DyrieVr  secret  ^tilL 
Only  once  he  had  said  to  lier  :   ^  •         ^r^eir  s  secret  stUL 

.«"il"^'^  if  I,  die  before  you,  I  hâve  somethinii  to  tell 
bed  confessions,  4on't  they  ?    Oft  fjie  princîple;  I  ^,ppos-. 


•n.,««i  •        ,. ,  ■'  \"'*^  "•  "  *"  interesting  trait  m. the 

Dynely  succession  thdt  we  alwa^s  ar^  eut  off  in  a  hurrv)  it 

he LT'I^  ^'^t' ""  ^'^^  same/There's  one  consSk,n,'' 
andïbore  fc^^^^^'S^'^'^^fj'"^^^^  "^^^  never  cared  ov;r 
Sëuien^s  J^vTm  k""^'  *u^  '^^'^  y°"  '"^•"^i^d  ^"d  the  set- 
thé  rh.n.J  ^  "  '  T  *^^'"'  y°"  '^no'^»  to  the  end  of 
^e  chaptef,  so  you  won't  break  your  heart." 

ina  n«       '^''''''^^  ^^^'^  ^°g«  ^"<1  walked  moodily  off,  say. 

d"fate3  Te^'/Î^'^''  ^'^^  "^^^"'"g  ^'^'^  P^'«  <^heeks  and 
e  hlr  mSn      ^"^  "îî  questions.      She  waS  not  strong, 

-  V^A    ■  f  "i°"5'  «^'th  almost  cowardly  fear.    If  Lord  Dynelv 

iShL  A.  tTîîT''  T^'  ^'■""^  °^  "^^  »°  talk  of  mak- 
hâ  w^-  ^  ^^  ^u^  ^^^^  ^'^  ^•■^a^f"!  masculine  secrets  in 
lue,  let  him  keep  them  in  death.  ' 

left  he^^îni- ^ri^  *'''"'''"«  '^''  ""^^'^  Gordon  Caryll  had 
wL  robe?  h  ^-  'k^  r*"^  'P'"*  °^  ^he  raoonlight  in  her 
T^  t^.  '  î^'  ï«^t,  floatmg  hair,  and  colorless  flce.  And 
even  while  she  thought  it,  the  messenger  was  drawing  near 
to  siinimon  her  to  hear  that  secret  told  •  ^ 

hJfU^^^u!rf'^°''^  chiming  loud^  eleven  awoke  her  from 
^hni    •vW"**'*"*^^-     Shestariîd.     How  late  it  was.  3 

naa  telt  of  cold  and  danip,  and  turned  to  go.  But  she 
stopped  for  the  sylvan  silence  of  the  sumnS  nigh  waS 
oudly  broken  by  the  ringing  clatter  of  horses'  hS  daT 
ng  up  the  apnue.     Was  it  Gordon  coming  back?    Luîe 

-norsG  41^1  ..Ucr  came  in  view  ;  Tfié  min  ëspied  îwranà 


\  ■  \ 


h 


1L._.._  t 


./\'' 


l^i^s 


»ru  w:'.;,..:ii 


l'^vtp 


th« 


t    ' 


mW  LORD   VISCOUNT  DYNELY  DIED.    ,      75 

'«Whatisit?"sheasked. 
eu         '"^^'ship  was  m  it,  and ."  '     '  ^ 

|;WasLordDynelyhurt?"sheasted.  '      . 

ror  "J  ;i|ï:'=  '"  *'  '"•=™P'«i-  "«r  vpice  sharp  wiU.  *. 

ôiie  turned  from  him  and  ran  to  the  house      On  th^  »,„ 

evening-dresï  oui  on  Sr  tîT  *.  ^"ï  "*^*'*  ^^"  ^«^  '^«te 

lujnedte       Atdtnl:;3;rcïi^^^^^^^^^^ 
taraed  into  an  adjoininir  loom-^hL  «.LÎT  „u  °  ^'r-^'^e 


lïoy= 


\iL 


"""."ai 


Tl^e  night-light  burns  low^he  Ues  in  his  downy.  Uce  "^ 


# 


"«* 


mi* 


M 


:^ISfti| 


j^^!Î«T.'i,4ç^f«jv; 


^♦.1 


gied  dimpled  h|*golde»cut|s  falling  o 

*^*P-    «le  slOQBlËîind  kiss(     "  ' 
'11" 


.dent,  4e  fiSed  rian^      w- ^  1^'"^"°  *^^*^"^  «f  the  accj»  •      • 

■     >  .kt«ifs  by  .h,  Mside.    Her  da  k  dS^Sy  sfos  off  lf.°"  ^" 
dress,  Ker  soft  laces   h«»r  fii,;  ^i^o*-      t*  •  ^   °">  "®'^*''^>fe 

\^  ^<'r-s,aSd^^^^^^^^^ 

^     .apeaksa  Word.  »  "F""  ms  lace.    bhe  never    » 

Jle  li»  arid  look,  a.  her^  ,«g,  „.^,,,  f„^^^ 


;'ïamdymg,"hesaj's;  "rif  knowit  i  Vn.,  ».„     ■       . 

^ — __ .,.. — .__^__„_...™„_^„ 


fa^. 


\ ,  ^| 


\  \ 


'î       it 


'm 


is  li^idly    . 

!  proppÉ^ 
dless  3L^à. 
'  the  accâ» . 

is  frowrt, 

s  on  her  - 
ler  white 
itrangely 
>in  head 
eyes  fix 
le  never   » 


owning 


wronged  ràost    B«  yo„  Ln  h^^^  f^l^!'^''^  *""'  •"="• 
sh^doasyou  see  fit  iS°n    d!Ïw  n=i  "  °"'  """''  """  ^°" 
o^ne  bends  doser  above  him      ««  ♦ -i      u     .     ^,  . 

Glauber,  thp  doctor  and  Mr  À.fni  'f,  ^^''^'f  *^«"g«-  Mr. 
easily,  looking  at  their  watchê  JnS  '^V^^"-'  ^'""k  un- 
sible  Lord  Dvnelv  ?n  hf»  f   f '  °",  ?"^^-    ^V*  ^"'te  'n>Pos. 

Presently  Mr  TexTan  f«^i   k       ^''r,''^"^*^^  fallenasleep 

He  opens  the  doo°  an^S'^^oe^fn  ïorTA"  f'^^  ^"r^^' 
back  aoibng  his  pillo^-s  de^  fî;^  f  "^  ?^"^'>'  '^^^  ^^"«n 
his.face;  4  lad/S^ne  S"  bfi^^^^^^^  . 

upnght,.aswhrte,  ascold  as  thn..  J,?.,      j  7  ~~^^  "^^'  ^^ 
"My  ladv !"     S^° C  ^  ^"™^^  ^^  stone. 

Lady  DySl.  J ierfnf  "°'  ■^^''^  °'  ''''•     "My  dear    ' 
tone.     ^  ^'    ^'^  '^^'^"^  ^y^  ^»  an  uoutterably  shocked 

and  catches  hersas  So'?  ^!?i'  ^^^  ''"V^L^^^  unstekdily, 
b«dc,  and  faints  wj!"''^"' '^^^Jl^  «^""^  «»»«  »«Ps  heavilf 


0        ^■'* 


«   l" 


,  *> .  " 


IT 


.•^«isi 


,h4^v*/^.  ^^«r 


■*v  . 


"•->>■. 


«K, 


'■'M 


A'  V  ^i 


.^.^\   t   V-.;      ^Jk 


5,  >«i*f  ii,"^- 1 


^    - 
fi,     ) 


a*' 


». 


% 


PART  SECOND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

IN  THE  ROYAL  ACADEMY 


[HE  brilliant  noontide  of  a  hn'ii;.,»»  %r      j 


r 


AcMemy.  ^    ■     "  "^^^  ''^^  °P^i"g  day  of  thc  Royal 

"a  mob  is  a  mob  thouïh  J!         ^nd  gentlemen,  but    hen 
dilettante-  ookW  sVeuf  ^2T^  1  ^''^°^''"     ^"6"^^. 

long  hair,  and  pfcturTs^e  7aces  •  ï?  crS  h^l"'^'".  ^'*^ 
ciUnhand;  academidX  r^îL;  •  ^"^^  ^"^'^â,  book  and  pen- 
dealer^  n^^ki^X  qu  ™ 
•      to  s>oop ;  statlly  do24e^    "weeniL  t?  "^^n  P'^^°*^J^ 

mi^nd.n,se  compleS  J'âc^SSr^"^^'^^  «'^'^  -"N 

théi^eS^CiaSërSiSr'^K^^  ^^^^B  four  asi 
through.thT  I^^£^g^"X>-'^° ™-^  slowly; 

trfctedconsidèrablelttS  cLAÎS'  *"''"'  "^^ 
.  proacKkig  middle  ace.  a  fair  nniï^  ' -^^  ^^'^^  "^^^  ^ 
^  woman,  5ith  a  stamS  of  hih  '  ^t  '  P^'^sive, /ojj^  loofcing 

eveiy  ckrelSs  Se     ^ï  °°  everyfaded  feature,  il 

e-scort  was  rîcf?  Si  vei^Jr''!f  î***,?^  attraction.    The 

vciy  tall,  veq.  broad-shouldergfaejy  powexful.^^ 


;  \. 


'^ 


ilùuél 


!^ 


>      / 


>y  was 

f  car- 
of  ail- 
Royal 

L  jOSt- 

then 
guid, 

Vfith 
pen. 
cture. 
ently 
rainsj 
withi 

iras/ 
yyvlyi 

at-i 

^Pl 

î,  m' 
rhe 


^ 


\ 


•  / 


^ 


'4 


/AT  TVSœ  ROYAL  ACADEMY. 


79 

looking  young  nian,  niuscular  Qidstianiîy  personified  with 
a  certam  m.htary  kir.  that  bespoke  his  calliVrÀTck. Tè  I 
dish  beard  and  mustache,  reddish,  close-crop,  ed  hak   arid 
Sri' ^n;  g°°^-?"'?«'-^d  eyes.     m  was  riot'  Jhe  attraction 
f  S  ^;""'^°"ï  ^^^l  '^as  as  w€ll  known  about  town  as 
Landseer-s  couchant  lions  around  Nelson's  pillar,  in   thi 
square  beyond.     It  was  the  thiri^of  the  trio,  a  girûaU  and 
f^^r^^^f  very  graceful.  w-ith  a  figure  that'waf  rLreîy  pSr 
fect,  and  a  way  of  carrying  herself  that  was  altogethef^i,m)e-\ 
ml.     A  dark  beauty,  with  a  warm,  creamy,  colorless  sk  n 
w/Th  ^T^^y^^  a  profusion  of  hazel  hair, armnged A?^ 
«^^A  a  iiandsome,  dec.ded,  square-cut  mouth,  and  a  gen- 
eral  air  of  imperious  comi>,and  that  said  to  ail  ^ 

]'Incedo  Regina  I  ** 

{ I  move  a  queen." 

She  was  dressed  U  passant,  as  it  were,  with  a  careless  sim 
&e  a^rf'^^f  &f  rr  "'  ^^e*^  ^'-    An  IndLn  i 

iTce  Jîth  W  ^^T:;  roses-on  her  head  a  touch  of  point- 
K^'  Tu  Jf  *  ?"^  ^"°^  ""ose  over  the  car,  and  in  her  oearl. 
kidded  han^a  buy,cH  of  the  same  scented  yellow  rose? 

A  çoveyWidle,el^ant  dandiesof  the  Foreign  Office  and 
guardsmen  Jounging  !n  one  of  the  door-ways,^puY  up  the^ 

/'  Something  new  in  Vanity  Pair,"  one  said.  «and  the  best 

n'o  ô^e  te"ill""T"     """^^  "^"^'^^^'  aS^one?" 

air"  ^Thlre"  11  ""Zl^^  1^°"  "Y'  ^^r'^^-    J°^«  '  ^l^at  a  régal 
airi     ihere  is  nothmg  on.  the  wal  s~not  a  nvmnh  or  aaà 

dess  Cthem  àll.  with  a  lovelier  face.     Who  is  sh7?  "     *  ^" 

-^S  J°"^»^^"'mi:^<Jy  J^ynely."  remarked  a  third. 
u.r      i      •  ^^^^P^T^y  Dennison.    He  bas  placed  them 

nas  _^lett  them.     |Jëre  h^  cornes.     I  say,  Dennison  I  who  is 


■t»-! 


V 


tl! 


•'1 


'V/    % 


J^S 


3- 


wW.fcA«^  ^°  «"^sfeed  W/nénnisoiv,tTie  sindy:^^ 
whisk^red  younfi|p,  apWhing.     «  '  Who  »  ahe  ?  '  iîS't   i, 


f'* 


..'• 


M 


>."""V',/''. 


*  "T 


«0  i      «r  TSB,  KOVAt  AÇAIlgj^ 

«"Às^j-eare  not  to  kno"  ,"_"  ''"''  '"'»  ^ep.  yoo,  ej-e. 
«C*?""^     ""  ''°"''  ™»'  ^^    'V.o  i,  .Ha. 

ï^orresigr."  -^"^  "«an,  w  jt?    That  girl 


anin- 
is 


Wer  naine  is  Fran^*.     t?  .  "^ 

.wered  catal^  M,  De™lS"~J  ")'<"■  '"'' «  •«"er."  .„. 

the  mysieries  a  little^d  nS  ^n^   °^^^^  ^^^^-     Open 

"^ei^s  no  Jfôre    ""r^**^"  WP^e."     Jl  -  *    „  ^ 

a^mreâ;convent,andthe"eshfH^f"'^'.  placed  her  ^ 
W\.he  died,  left  her  a  forZl      T**  """^  ^^^  was  fifteen 
gardian.    That  ^a7Îh%e  ïlnr'  *°^  ««ade  Mrs.  Caiy    £ 


■»i'i 


(«f .    '^ 


5!  .  %_ 


conveyed  to'the 


'  ;/.'  W^  ' 


H 


'  1  '' 


/AT  TVSri?  ROYAL  AdADEMY 


.'ti 


8i 


i'en^t  seen  anything 

i^hat  with   inadttin< 

of  the  head,  and 


wa« 


Eternal  City.    Until  ttwj  «ontlîs  ago  she  moved  and  had  h*.r 
beinç  there-noMT  she  has  corne  ^ver.  t J  œme  out  under  fhe 

?S.i   h  '°™"«^h'-'?ay?Terry.  with  a  sudden  sensé  of  iniurv 
"the  thermometer  is  high.  and  I  tlp't  used  to  it."  ^ "  ^' 

Ihe  F  O  .?,£^""'f''  «^'■«l'iaway,  and  the  four  men  from 

"Safe  to  make  a  hit,"  one  said  ;  "h 
8o  thoroiighbrçd  for  three  àeasons. 
ojselles  beauty  and  grâce,  and  f/ia/  pois»  of  the  head  and 
-two  fortunes  tackçd  to  her  train,  and  hertWent7auarterilu 

^^^Ï'^K -rnf""^^^?  ^^™''^'  'he  ForrestTrsrshrS  S 
e  a  bnmânrmatoWiefQre  the  season  ends.»  '     ^ 

itr^i  ^•i    î  •    ^^''°.".*^  ^°^^"^  always  Win  the  Derby 

îîSr '?i''^"'^''r''""-'^^  '     ^  say,  Castlemain  I     Yoù 

^ri^^~?'"  '  '"^"^^  ^  ^°"  î"  that  faniily  once  ?" 

r«.î       •^P''y"~:'''''">'  finefellow-knewhimat  Oxford" 

tS      S?;"^^"^""^'  "^<>'"'"i««oniû  theRifles-lo^dstory 
that-Mxteen  years  ago^aU  over  and  forgotten  for  S 

«PeadP'Vj 

"  Don't  kîiow-all,  the  sarae— extinct     Made  a  horrible 
mesalhance   out    there  in  Canada-scandàl~dh.orce-ex    . 

?a"tf  „rJf"V°  India-never  fieard  of  more  S^;:^  f 
--fate  of  ail  of  us  by  and  by.  Deuced  slow  this."  strue-  ^' 
ghng  with  a  yawn  ;  "I  say-lef s  hook  it."  '         ^ 

f^Jr.  J''Z^^^^^°''''  ^"'  °*''^"  ^aJ^e  their  place,  and  the 
men,  one  Ma",  turn  for  a  second  look  at  the  fa  r  proudU 
boking  heauty  With'Lady  Dynely,  she  still  stands  whëî 
mde^'tr 'hfe      *'^™'  r  "l^^  ^'^^  Picture  thaT'S; 

«S^   .A  T^^a^g"  Square— it  is  marked  in  the  catalogue 
No.  S56—B0W  The  Night  Felir  »^wiogue 

.rriMî  Kft  *  ^"  ^"^'''^  f  *^^"^-    "^a»^  d^J^  hi"s  in  the  back- 


«ot  Uiese  dark  hiU-sides.     A  broad  river,  with  th-  to«»  -Zi 


broad  river,  with  the  tast  rej 


i 

A 


I. 


pifth',  f 


^r 


tW 


1  .  ■     r- 


82 


/AT  THE  ROYAL  ACADBMY. 


light  of  dying  day  ghnting  along  the  water,  and  over  hill-side 
SLh  Tr  ^""î  fl°«'«"g  river,  the  gray  darkness  of  conSng 
night  shutting  do«rn.  On  the  river-side  two  figures  stand  a 
inan  and  a  woman.     One  red  gleam  fron,  thf  western  sky 

au  white  and  drawn  with  woman's  utmost  woe.  Passion- 
ate  despair  looks  eut  of  her  wild  eyes  at   the  inan  who 

îpiiîl  ""f^  !;"•  ""k  '*"^/^^  <*" 'stretcheîîn'^onL'S 
Sfn  •  ^t  '"*";  ^"^  standsand  looks  at  her,  one  hand 

Î^Ia  Ï ?"^^  ^'  '^  ^^^"»  *^*^^  ^ff-  Hb  fac^  is  pa^tly 
Se*  hi  h  T  "^^  ^•^^'^  î^!  ''^'^^^  *»»*'  ^^^  shows.  You 
Si  M..  •''°°"u". '5^'^**  ''*'y*^"d  rédemiîtion.  Over 
ail,  the  creeping  night  is  darkening  land,  and  river,  and  sky. 
The  two  ladies  gaze  in  silence  for  a  Unie-Lady  Dynefv 
looking  weary  and  rather  bored-Miss  Forrester's  fine^eyes 

'^'.^.^:^^:  °'""'°^  ""'^^  ^'^  ^^'Wd,  the  ex^res- 

"  It  is  beautifal,"  she  says  in  a  low  voice  ;  «there  is  noth- 

,vi  o'  1  '"  '^^  '?V'-     ^^  **  ^'^^^  '^«"derful  effect  of 
hl  .?r  A^  r""^""?  *^«'  and  slanting  along  the  river,  and  ' 
^e  gray  darkness  that  you  can  ahnott  /^^/there  beJond 
Those  trees  are  tamarac-can  it  be   a  Ca^adian  sèene    " 
How  The  N^ht  Fell,"'  she  reads  from'lgr  Staffie* 

«t^.»k'nc"eTi  '"'^^  '^  ^^'^^^^  f  ^'^^^  ^^^' 

rJr^l&  ^"""^^'T*  H-m-m~a  new  candidate,  probably. 
Certamly  I  must  know  him.  In  Rome,  we-Mrs.  Caryll  and 
D^red^^'^.Tit  taking  u^  evéry  young  artist  who  ap- 
peared.  She  was  known  as  the  patroness  of  art.  Our  rooms 
on  our  art-reception  nights  uUed  to  be  crowdéd.  -The  man 
who  pamted  that  is  a  geniu*," 
/*  Mrs.  Caryll  was  the  patroness  of  struggling  artists  for 

ïl?  IT";  \f^n-^'  '°"  .^^  *  devotee^âar^t  once  him! 
jelf,^and  studied  for  a  year  in  Rome  befoi*  entering  the 

rJ,lS"  Sli'  ^"^  Ffn-ester  repeated  dreamil*  «Ggrdon 
GuylL     Pfechaps  so,  she  very  seldom  spoke  of  hSi,  poor  fel- 


V, 


j^ 


tu  THE  ROYAf.  ACADEMY. 


p'cture  through  her  closed  hand  ;  «  there  is  a  fascination  for 
me  in  the  auguish  and  despair  of  that  woman's  face.  /A 
beautiful  face,  too.  I  wonder  if  the  artist  painted  Wspictiyb 
fromlife?"  j       ' 

"  My  dear  France,  no.  They  ar%  ail  imaginary,  are  they 
net— suggested  by  books,  op  sotnething  of  that  kind?" 

"  Ah,  I  don't  know.  Artis^  and  poets,  and  novelists,  ail 
tiibi  theit'  sorrows  to  account  in  thèse  latter  days,"  says  Miss 
Forrester  cynically  ;  ♦•  they  paint  their  woes  in  oil  and  water 
colors,  Write  them  in  hexanieters,  and  niake  money  of  tijern. 
Lik^  Lord  Byron,  if  they  weep  in  private,  they  certainly 
wipe  their  eyes  on  the  public"  • 

.  '"  My  dear  child,"  says  Lady  Dynely,  looking  shocked, 
"  where  hâve  you  learned  ydur  cynicisms  so  young  ?  " 
Miss  Forrester  lauglied. 

**I  ani  but  a  débutante,"  she  answered  gayly,  «not  coi  je 
out  yet  before  the  foôt-lights  ;  but  I  hâve  seen  a  deal  of  life, 
I  assure  you,  behind  the  scènes.  Hère  cornes  Terry."  She 
glances  over  her  shoulder.  "  If  the  artist  of  '  How  the  Night 
Fell,'  be  présent,  Terry  shall  fetch  him  up  and  introduce  him.'^, 
"But,  France— "  ? 

Miss  Forrester  laughs  again — a  very  sweet,  low  laughi 
She  is  unlike  raost  English  girls— in  fact,  she  is  not  an  Engf» 
lish  girl.  She  has  her  French  mother's  blood  and  vivacityi 
as  well  as  her  dark  complexion,  and  dark  eyçs,  with  somet 
thing  of  the  frank-spirited  independence  of  an  American  girL 
With  thèse  and  her  late  Roman  expériences,  she  is  a  bùndW 
of  contradictions,  and  a  bewilderingly  channing  whole. 

"But,  Lady  Dynely,"  she  ra^cats,  "I  warned  you  fairly 
m  Rome  what  you  might  e^wctiwjen  you  consented  to  be- 
come  a  martyr,  and  bring  ri^orjijf  I  hâve  had  myown  way 
ever  since  1  was  born,  and  jCtWay»  niean  to — jf  I  can.  I 
hâve  lived  in  a  perpétuai  atmosphère  of  artists  for  the  past 
three  years— the  long-haired  Brotherhood  of  the  Brush  havf 
been  «the  playmates  of  my  youth—the  fiiends  of  my 
bosom.'  "  Hère,  catching  sight  of  Lady  Dynely's  horrified 
face.  Miss  JForrester  breaks  oflfand  laughs  again,  the  sweet» 
-T|>irankestt  merriest  laugh,  that  evei^jcame  irom  rosy4Îps^ 
"Wbat's  thejoke?"  asks  Mr.  Oennison,  sauntering  up. 


•    ■  ;.*• 


83 


/. 


•'  ■^<!4 


'■Il 


rr. 


«4 


y^r  TffE  ROYAL  ACADEMY. 


timedmerriraent,  MisTForTS"  '      '/°  ^^"""  >'°"^  i»" 

"  •  '*V.^""y»"  says  Miss   Forrestei-    «,l«  i 

ist?"  i-orrester,      do.ypu  knp^  the  ar- 


very  fair  n,an^    Crops  4  haif  .L  "î^^^ 
artist— more  of  the  he^v^ï-J  '       "^   '^''^'"^   ^^o^  like  ao 
•See  him  ?"  heavy-dragoon  eut  than  anything  else 

^^^^'^T:^^^Vf-      She  sauras  Terry 

•  and  beard,  a  compTe^^n  Lroice  LS  r'*^  .^'^"^^  "^^'^ 
two  grave,  gray  eves  anrlTfK^   ûi  ?"^^  ^°  g®'^en  brown. 

^  man  Iqoki'.!  everfdky  of  hi  tevfnll?K^  ^^^"'  '^^—^ 
particularly  handsome  foce  perhap:  E^^^^^^  ^''^^  ^«t  a 
hiced,  ,  Whether  Miss  Fo;rr^S^\Srort\^ 

M.  S^.K^''toSr'  Ta^inte^Àtively.  ^ 
'    whoni  the  acme  of  nii     *°J'^^^  '^rge  «//  «^^wrJSjass  to 
looking:-      '^";"  °^  ""  P"-^'^^  «/  '"O'-tal  beauty  iHfo'  bad 

•>r?^^1:ttes';S  ix'^'jy   P"--   Dennison. 
«•ght  be  the  pet  of  the  pet  fcôats  anThir"  "^^  ^.°^^'  «^^ 
Picture,  but  he  won't.     Lives  for  hi,  i        '^^'?"  ^^^^'  ^^at     . 
know.  but  doesb't  ca/e  for  wo^en  ''  "''~^P''^'  ^^»°->  /«^ 

introducThS"'"^"'^^      B""«  him  up  hère,  Terry;  and   ' 
"Frahcel"  '    ,       '  - 


\ 


.»♦ 


i,;.v,      •'l      "^*""ë  aeocient,  Mi 
«  jJP  '^^'5  and  introAice  him  "  ^      .      *        *  —"'  """S 

/bur'Se'S;^^:^^  î^î  ^^'i^"-  ever  donc  te' 
Jjan  I     Do  let  him  be^"^  ^ôoi  the  h^'''^^  *"^  succe^sfil       ,. 
thôse  painting  fellows  in  Ror^J  ?.'''''' ^°"™ade  amonàlr'» 


.lî* 


^■^■*>^ 


c 

J 

"^l» 

-t 

«'  .> 

\ 

n 

e 

w 

fa 

c< 

t)i 

m 

pomt^^jfflvéJ 


T' 


' ,   ,\       ■ 


.1 

■jê 


^. 


'"ifi^'r 


lAT  THF.  RohL  ACADEMY 


\ 


,'♦ 


te    , 

rîr* 

i 

A 

«5 

^  noble  army  of  martyre  I  "•  breathed,  to  her 

•  fe.l'hX^'l^ockL'îr^l';.'  ""'  ^'''■'  "-"'O  y-'  '»■•«>.=  and 

.'  seconds,  and  t/e  deèd  is  die  '  Sn '''^'='''"?' '°'' «'= 

*.*'"xio'ctr^  =^?w-t":k.r,&aS:raro"nc  ™"'  "■' 

■4J^,f™'    "'«-•-."    «ys    Ter,y,n>eekly;,..hany,I,i„g 

l^erry  Denhtson,  from  the  altitude  of  his  «»  fi.»,  i     i. 
dbwn  upon  his  dashing  little  suDerinr^ffli     "1  *^^*'  '^>*^k« 

._i%^.h.ùneeye^„;JlrS"^^a»- 
«e  of  «nringajîd  bting^  pre«n.ed  ?* '^     f  "",""  ''"^ 


« 


1^ 


«M 


81004.' 


>, 


•  .^ 


^é]  ■ 


IL 


'%•!■ 


-•  >'^^ 


¥-„  ■*>'i;r'<^^      ïT'If  "^    ■^^*''>  «■?r*^    ^^ 


h 


w.n  really  be  confefnng  a  favor  fn  °ï^  '''°"'^"'  b"*  y°" 
J^ady  Dynely  I  mean  of  course  L  n  •  '  '"«^^"ce.  She- 
of  art  and  artists.  Never  heL^'L^"''''  ^''^  °"  '^^  «"bject 
sut^t  pf  that  f^ictureof  Jours  -         ^'^  «ercised  as  on  the 

^-if^^l^V::.^  -ci  the  ar.-st 

and  bore  him  off  in  triunapr  «     ''''  "™  '"  ^is  own, 

Forrester.»'  '        '    ^««^'^s'ey-      Mr.   Locksley—Miss,^ 

Locte, "n^i^^areta  "'.^  "IfT"  ""'"y"  "r. 

derful-wonderfuC  ha<^^  "I  '  jr"  >S?,-    B"'  «  '^  «n- 
yo..rn.odel,MKLocksIey?"  ^'">««  did  you  fi„d     . 

h.s,oice  and  face  k,  oddiy  fa„,îlii  J'  t^^"  ""  l'ère  in 
and  bearded,  was  not  like  ITl^LJ^^'  '"«•  ''^"«d 
He  stood  ealk  ng  to  France  PnVriff    *?.,'"'e«',  yet  slill—. 

of  a  Keswick  a ower  showS    "^'^  °J'»''>''  ""ère  waa  talk 


l^cksley,  let  me  congramla  ë  ,0..%     "^"'î'  ''"'"«• 
•hipiP.    I  hâve  Jn.f?xalfes  ST'Z  '^  ?™  «''«er 

>h.ct  i  ^^ ...,  ^^;;,p;«  of  ^X-^^^'^i^^^^o^ 


%^ 


tkifÈtJk^i' 


Tv 


T'.-?^-^,. 


/^  ra£  ROYAL  ACADEMY. 


«7 


myfr  ends  ™  Sh.  .T'  r'^K^"".^'^^  ^^^"'"^  *°  ^««^eive 
^rlT'     ,^'«.\*^o"-ester  murmured  some  last,  eracioug 

..ntlSr.N^"?''  '^''?;''''P  '**'^'"  '^as  her  remark,  as  thev 
entered  the  barouche  and  were  whirled  away  •  «  J^ave  von 
ever  met  tbis  Mr.  Locksley  before  ?  "  ^  '  ^°" 

h.r  \  !if  ^  "^''^''  ™^*  *^'"-  Locksley  before,  I  am  quité  sure  ^' 

bhe  hésitâtes  a  moment-then  answers  : 
"fone  who  must  bave  died,  in  exile  vears  airn     \Vh«« 
he  sitoke  first,  it  was  the  very  viice  of  GoS  cSkU.- 


^ 

^ 


/' 


V 


•\ 


i   -i 


•é 


tr-r    '  %'^~f  '/  I 


,.  ^^  .,, ,,  .^-  ,^  -^,.^^rtyif*7»7«-"^r^'i^f^ 


'  ■  1  ^-" 


*■ ,..«-. 


CTHAPTER    II. 


-^ 


> 
*? 


TERRY.    ...     . 

^"^tt^^iM^  soft  pn.„,se 

pots~-a  few  stars  duster  Ke^bL^  1"'^^'^  ^'^''""^y- 
over  the  streets~the '^pea  soô„ '•  ^'  V^^'veryhaze  hangs 

tKese  West  -End  stuccoed^p^^T^s  l^f^^T^  «^^"^^"'-  «'  ' 
The  room  in  wWch  Xady  mSv  ^LPu-%'''''^^  ^°*n. 
an  âpartment  as  beautiful  and  eleà?  "'^^^^'"8  ^°°'"'    ^ 

/païnted  «»  ^«f/^^;.  i,^;;"^!:    J*^'  P»c^ure  is  a  portrait 

(  dear  no  other^ictu  e  n,u?t  le  Jtf.^'  P^f^rait  we/held   o' 

tratof  Eric  Alexis  AIbS«!i\r*^®™P*"'°"-    It  is  a  por- 

first  Baron  am^eâown'    °'^  ^'«^°"nt  Dynelyrand^v^eS?;, 

«ost  casual  observer  If  o„lv  fn^'f'^^  ^^'  «'"k»    he 

„artist  haij«ostXssîV  L«ifJ  K**'  t?*"*^'    «i*er  the 

t^       /    «y.  18  ,an  uncommonly  h»fldtome  nfiûu    T|Sg 


^ 


V 


^i^^fe;- 


-^ 

T 

* 

*     * 

« 

.  .    .    •.. 4 

.\ 

..   . 

■;■♦. 


k-}  •  ■^.■,:2.i\  <i 


*f'- 


] 


teéhy. 


89 


..f 


> 


vats  of  ail  ■  Dullocks,  and  the  broachmg  |f  niighty 
of  ter  IS  andL";'''J  f^^>^  gh^^ng  ^t  is  not  altogether 
majonty  at  hand~is  he  not  to  marry  tr  oet  FTIni^  p  "^ 

aîdst  had      r  •*   *'^^JS'"^  ïmpatiently  back  his  fair  Hair,  M,is 

\2Z^''\^^'^^^^  ^'  ^*  °""  a*^he  sitg  hère   Iftat  W 

nsn-|xyf.i,  a  aherf  of  sUvcr  %ht  tt^ihett-feet-shé  se^^  fe?l 
%H"^tmgîtalongsli^      the  yeï^sIS^^ 


90 


TBRRY. 


Ijjci,*» 


*^^ 


cousin  she  loved  i^cniaps  wiiat  had  |Mce  been  the 

to  hear,  that,  in  the  soft  waSof  h?^  ^  ''°'''^'  '°  ^'^""^^'^^ 

rom-head  to  foot  as  sL  Sf^^^^^^^^^^^^  «he  shivers 

has  stamped  its  i.npress  upon  i?l  heV'fter  1  fe  ''""^^  "'«'^' 

'  ThttL^rarstll^^^^^^^^^^  ™at  can.  after. 

allJierhttfeaïnre^ed"^^^^^^^^^  but  weeping  nota 

People  wonder  a  little  atthir,  Ln  '  Y^'^  °^  f  ^P^'  ^"d 
would  hâve  it  so-^„:  t  pas  raiV"irh  .  "^^^  "^''^'^^^ 
band  and  shoukler-knofc  of  rrl^T  i    ^u^*"/  ^^^  ^°'""  o»"  the 

batjy  viscount,  and  had  cauiffht^  ^'^'ï^^  "•^«^  ^^e 
wiWIy  :  ^^"fif"'  """  to  her  breast,  crying 

r^ph,  my  Eric  I  my  baby  f  n,y  baby  l" 

^i>sband,  a  father.     "  AndlS  ^«  T  ^  u  "^«^«t^^e,  a 
theglowing  record      l^it  Jn  ï^  *'  ^°"°''  ''''"»•"  «^uJ 

^  w»,  o^er,  and  then  tato  Lady  i>^Xb  m;  .,^,  . 


i 


/- 


^    ,^C^! 


1    '  "* 

-- 

f  f 

1            '^^M,..^. 

» 


^^■j'-' 


:*r 


,    Tenu  Y,  «     /   .■    , 

She  left  herlmaid  behind  her  the  dàv  of  h^rT  •    ?"  ^"Z^' 

ga«  «  thf  paie,  fair  EnglùA  S         "=*«=«'"'  «!«»«  to 

L^y p;„elv  lUed  ^m  faJto  Ê°a„7|'l|,"  ^  '^"^ 
iightod  aiul  Hn^^  -  -„7°  ^  ^^  ui°f  y J*"  «"O 


w-1 


*"  i 
-'»' 


f.. 


.^ji' 


\^n,^^jt^ 


'a* 


"i^» 


-«J' 


)     . 


©. 


92 


TERXY. 


V 


ù 


) 


yan,  i„  the  corne/  '"fcJ''>-'^=  «d-headM  g«sBoon  be 

"  Ai^  orphan  ? '♦  h*»r  7,^    l- 
earnestly  at  Teny,  who   S'''/*P"'="''  '«"  Sazfng  yen,       / 

?ÏÏ"«r.'°  .P''''"<ie  for  il,sta„dSifd"''"?°''^"'f»'l>er, 
I*ly  Dyn^  Ba„s^  and  ort^  î„  ''•'P";  "»''  «?    Is-- 

fla^^dVay  '"''^■'""'  "«  Olue,  handso™  cye, 

«Jon''«?f  èrbuîl;  ;^t!;!r^  «"-■  ^  P-^nœ,  I 

"«  ï'"^'"  ~"  '""'^°  *"  »<«  "- 

««'kadKlefufke'Noi'^''?''  ««  ««"»-.  ùmre 


*»- 


BW,. 


».j.i*« 
^L.».  ^^* 


■+  ,- 


,.s«S-'  !o,' 


TER^Y. 


V 


^   93 


yi 


\r: 


e,  I 
use 

de- 

jre 
eU       ' 

( 


n  .h,  Parish  chapel>ey:„,.'''',^'j:i|°?rSt";:S 
Sl-r"™'  rta"^ri"'  hère  widout  the  ring.     HeSan 
Engl,sh,„an-bad  cess  <o  him  wheriver  he  isikem  herl  Z 

asked  with  cunous  .nterest^n  this  lowly  romance.      ^     ^ 

_^    "And  Ihen?"  -^  ' 

«o"j'wé"st/'Lr"h  "'i  Tl  1^  ■""■•  ''""^»  y'«  or 
™  "r"^^f  seejn  nor  heerd  nothin*  av  aithf*k-  jmt  *h;.«      c 

po«Mkreene«d  i^UierTeadfliwri^^^^  An' Z  J"'! 
,  wance  she  kem  bacTonlfine  ra?rnT?  wid  IWrvJh       ^' 

^eeny  baby  in  her  arrunis.%,'  iZ'Z^^:^,}^^,^^'':^^^^ 

8ee|Wt  nor  hair  av  her  fihe  ïlnglish  husbLS  4he  S 
\  <^  %  crows  an  him  this  day  1  »  "       '       ^^^^ 

y  "îHe  deserted  her  ?"  ) 

^^•^ifrself  wid  nothin'  at  all  C  ""^o  Z^^.^t^::^^,:, 
heltt1-.i^^°"^^^"^^3^ï^3'°«Iyrepeatet   "Surel/ 

malTied  by  that    name     S^  tm^l^f  •.^^"l'""' *«^^» 

«  hi.4  cudnrb:-  up"^  r  V  ^""'"""^  ^^'^ 

Father  O'Gorman  warned  her,  but  shJ 

-;?T  ïf  ^^^  .*''  "°"*''^  »^^her  she  kem  « 
wiq  letrrym  herarnims,  an'  n  urayer  fe^ 

on  h#ir  line  "  ' 


rry         ^„.^ 

the  wc^rïd,  on  her  lips.'" 


him^.Qchl 

be  wérped. 

died  hère 


-#•*' 


./'.î. 


(1, 

^    4 


"fr. 


F%' 


»^*--'-'l.'   II.  i  ^t  1. — ri"  If  W.  Ity  ,.  "^  S, '  1  I  ■ 1  Ji,'  »■''     * ŒiW 


oiÙMpt 


-^w**^ 


94 


TBRRY. 


Lady  ^ 
really  piç 
held  ow^ 
»"aven6us%,™_ 

"WouldyS 


,  Bss.  '  ""'™  Teny  grabbed  with 

pause, 'and  éddy'iïîarSdl,'^  '?'!;'''.'"='>=  i^ked,  after  a 

verjr  white-«so  far  as  I  m?v»'«r  ^^  ^^"'^^'  ^nd  gre,^ 
I  >v,II  atope  for  hisfather's  wrônf^;;P^^^^^'  steadfas  l 

you  consent,  you  shall  hA      ,    ^'^^"^'^  yo"  no  more      u 
and  expenseofthepast     r^,^  ?P^'^  f^»"  ^U  the  troubli 

«ow,  tell  your  parents.  anH  L°        '^'^  "  ">/  own  son 

Go  t„  ,he  i„„  i„  .L  tSSge  f„d™f  f^l'^"',."'"  """^S: 

2sne  arose-  and  left  » k^    1-      ^  "'^  ^ady  Dvnelv  "      * 

ri;h  ,he  look  of  on.  U„  A;„  '^"k™"  ^"Sd,  ,„d 

Th.'f  ^  Dynely  „e„l  teck.     ^  *  ''"^  ""''  h"n.iliâ<lng 


I! 


a  ,>' 


Aij 


I 


^'hifJ» 


4 


TERRY. 


95 


and  they  would  humbly  accept  her'offer'    ÎÎT,^  k 

«n  her  train.  She  went  to  Dnhlin  /  .*  "^^  ''"'«  ^eing, 
ail  disniissed  the  xZ\aJ1^a^'  ^""^  ^^^""^  ^^^  gopd  and 

^^e  engaged  another  who  would  act  L"  n^""  ^"'^  "^'^^' 
Terence.andmaidtoherselffor  h.i  as  nurse  to  Master 
journey  to  England  ^''^  P'^'^"^'  ^"d  P"rsued  her 

wafhTnaVv^e'ïlirJtrih'^i-^'^^^  '^'^  ^-  charge.     It 
friend.     With  thfvT^r  , J  L^'"'^ 
The  vicarage  lay  do^in X  L^T  ?en''  '"'  "^^  P'^^^^' 
dank  marshes   ali  about  it_the  fl7.         ''°,"""'>''  "'"^  flat, 

gloomybeyondthesandyioTst      H.   '""'   ^'"^   ^'">''^"^ 
only  in   many   daughters    and    /!^  ""^f.^  P^?*- ™an,  rich 

that   they  should    brinf-up"  Terr;  1.^^^^?  '    P'"°P°^^ 
Heraccountofhimwashri^f     ïî^  was    gladly  accepted.- 
the  orphan  son  of  a^^^t^nt  coSfnTf  l'^'T  °^""^°"' 
An  Irish  cousin-a  verv  rH^n?        °^  ''^''  '^^^  h"sband. 
as  such,  with  a  daim  u^w  orS"n  ~?l"  ^  ^°"«'"'  -"d 

bargainwt   Sed'thet"  Ld    t^  ^'^^"f-  ^^^ ^^e 
Dennison's  life  began  anew!  '    ^""^    ^'"'^    ^^ry 

Hre-Ve^^s  "air  chfld'^C^^^^^^^    ÎS"^»^  ^^"'  ^-  -rly 

beenbroughtupalngl've  Jp'o^r'^^^^^^  '^^  "^'^ 

he  remained  at  the  vicarLe     thln  k    ^"''^  ''^  ^*  ^^een     ' 
bttle  Eric, Lord  Dyne  rSfdli;??  ^1  T^"'  *°  ^^^^  '^ith 
That  Christmas  J  the  firï  rim.  r  **'''  ^?  ^cquainted. 
Pynely    Abbey,  and    AenceforTh     ^u'^^"'  î*^^  ^^^'«n  ^t 
holidays  it  the  vi^..rV  and  £c  ^i/l'''°y^^y    passed  Jns_ 

/      «i  ucsL    Al  the  Vicarage,  Air.  and 


î 

i. 


1  -  ■< 


/ 


«>        A 


ip 


•         ,  #•  ■  ■  '    ■  ■■ 

"  '         ''  '  «      .   ,    ■ 

4.  .  ■       r 


V 


V 


',''{, 

1 

'■\. 

^ 

^\ 

/ 

• 

,/■ 

- 

, 

/ 

■I 


u 


J     1 


.î-.v" 


G 


.#' 


*» 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


'™. 


1.0 


l.l 


IA£M2.8 


m  lu  IJ.6 


r/. 


_,SGifflices 
Corpoialion 


23  WBT  MAIN  STRf  ET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  873S1903 


^^^ 


t  ""^r^i  ".^ 


.Jf 


^. 


/ 


c 


Jf' 


^ 


5^ 


?" 


#- 


ii/^,'*»i 


,,^  „•_»:„  ,"     ..-.np^-   ->*,,<  "t^^^s^ 


.rv 


96 


TERRY, 


dwelt  the  angel  of  his  life   r  ni     rt  ^  ?'^  ancestral  Abbey 

Teror  Dennistn  had  for  tbis  lar  VT  ^""^  ^'^"«•ation 
the  most  bea.itiful,  of  ail  women  .k  1*"  '^°'"^°  «hç  was 
realize  ail  she  had  done  for  h^^       the  best.     He  could  now 

d«pths  of  poverty  and  mis^ry  she  hï?/l°'^Tt     ^~"  the 
of  Jight  to  rescue  him.  ^  ^  *'*'^  destended  lite  an  angel 

^p^^r:';ol;^^^^^  ..  had 

she  gave  him  a  gJld™aS  th.        ?'''      ^^'^    Christmas 

Costly  présents  andSl^wordl  h.  /""^'^  ^^""^  ^«'^^ys 
once,  one  caress.  Ins  incnJ!?  î  J  "^''^'"  once-no,  not 
had  adopted  with  a  JoSot^t':^^^^^  ^'^^  ^^  "«^e 

of  terror  at  timesr  This  Crv  d  5  L/  '^P"'«on-al>solitely 
was  sIo«r,  but  bis  heart  mrnedvlf.T  "°'''''^-.    ^  ^^^^^  said  he 
touch  of  her  white  'Jim  h?»!?    f"^'^^o™^timesforjustone 
-^st  one  of  the '^st^h';  av^^^^^^^^  tawny  heK: 

Enc-thrice  happy  Eric-lnorhS  il  ^"  '°°-     ««  «vied 
h«s  «realth;  ah,   no  I  but  one  of  .Sf*"'^'  "P*  ^«  '«'«»  "ot 
sliowered  on  him  like  rain      p  •   *''"<^, '"otberly  embrâces 
boy-like,  of  kisses  andfSin.  "'li't''^'^  hefoff,  impaS 
see  Terrys  round  Celtfc  etTiiSëd  '^■\^y  I>ynely  S 
the  longing,  path;tic  patiS^  you  J^f  "  L^  ^^  ^^^^  f^e  with 
This  love,  little  short  of  wSn  .!!    "   'L^.^^^^  «^  »  dog. 
h«ni  she   was   the  perfectTon  J kS  fiT  '""''  ^'^  S^om^fo 
sjreetest,  noblest,  aiS^ng  wo^en      H^n  ''^  »*"'"?^^  ^»^«t. 
mos  hkely  he  could  notl^rhaif  tS     *'''^''  •?"*  '"  «'«'■ds- 
she  mspired  him.     And  ^Sy  fo^  hîr*  ''t"*'^«on  with  which 

o«rn,  for thegalUntandgSlden  l^Lt/tSÏ^r^  ^T^y^^'  his 
ne  loved  Eric,  as  once  fmnn -^  V^^atcharmedalfchearts. 
yo^ng  David-..yrr."C  .„Xte£r  i'""  '^5 
"»Jonty,  and  then  hu  bene&cSL  £.  ?  °"î"''''  ««''«'  h» 


s 

ri 

w 

A! 

«( 

'O 

fll 

mi 

an 

• 

irt.  '•    '%i 


1^,  >■ 


y*'-Â^ 


TËRRY. 


97 


^     îiS^rSi  o?tï^S.;^-'hi.„se,ratherfeetand 

phrases  of  thanlcs.  '"coherenily  two.or  three  stupid 

nedl^  ^r.:^X  -'  ^l  ^^^y^  said  hur- 
are  a  relative  of  mv  fate  S    J^^"""'  ^erty.     You-you 

"Only  her  dutv"     Ah     k  ^ 

-        "T-.  AJ^^ays  dut;;  nev«  lot   "''"^^  '^^'^  ^^*^^  ^^^^^  ^erit 

her  lajsh^tl  ^nT^^^H^  ^dd^^  "^^  ^-'  ^'-.•• 
Probably  suffice  for  yôu      Yo„r  h^K- ^'°"  '°  ^'our  pay,  w  n 

spends  more  in  a  month  for  h^      ^'""^  ^°'"  'nstanw.  whô 

youdoinayear.     S  iuhouEsfffi  '^' «'^^^^^  »^^^ 

to  drawr  upon  me  freely,  and  at  af t?l       w'  "«^er^hesitate 

C  ï  '"^  ™>^  ^^'^  son  "  ^""^'-    ^y  -P»^se  is  open 

T-ftr^^^^^^^^^^^^  f^SteitrhT  '^'^'"  «^.an  poor 
ihroat,  and  tears.  àctual  tear^  .n  X    ^u^?^  «engo^àn  ij^if 
,,,'   -She  sits  and  looks  at  h^mV   k''*'  ^""^^  fooIJôTSlue  evel 
:*^oad-shoulders,  sunbuîned  he...!'  ''^"^-^  ^^^^^  ^er,  L 
sonie,  not  in  thé  leas^/rrcefu^   ^A  "^J  '"  ^'^^  '«^st  hari?: 
refinement  that  is  her^n"  Eri?.^??^  '?''?  ^"e  grace  a^ 
man  from  head  to  foot     S,^  Il     birthnght,  but  a  gentïe.       ' 
«•m  with  wistful  eyes  ^^''^^  ^'^  ^^nd  and  look"  « 

nakeyouhappy,    And'yoû  a!^  S.  ^^^ '^^    ^    have-t^ 


,-^, 


98 


TERRY. 


Jove,  you  know  I  should  think  so,  with  a  comnr  issiôn  and 
five  hundred  a  year,  and  the  pot  I  made  on  Derby,  and — 
er — your  regard,  you  kriow,  my  lady.  Secause,"  sayshonest 
Terry,  turning  very  red  again  and  floundering  after  the  fash- 
ipn  of  his  kind  in  the  quagmire  of  his  feelings,  "  your  regard 
is  \yorth  more  to  me  than  the  whole  world  beside.  I  ain't 
the  sort  of  a  fellow  to  speak  out — er — uni — what  I  feel,  but 
by  Jove  1  I  do  feel  you  know,  and  l'm  §iwfuUy  grateful  and 
ail  that  sort  of  thing,  you  know.  An3,"  says  Terry,  with  a 
great  bttist,  "  l'd  lay  down  my  life  for  you  willingly  any 
dayl"'  . 

And  then  \\g  pulls  hîmself  up,  and  shifts  uneasily  from  one 
foot  to  the  other,  and  looks  and  feels  thoroughiy  ashamed 
of  himself  for  what  he  has  said.       m^ 

"I  know  that,  Terry,"  hèrjadyship  answers,  more  touched 
than  she  cares  to  show.  "  I  Believe  it,  indeed.  You  are  of 
thô  sort  wlio  will  gd  to  death  itself  fô^jittr  friends.  The 
motto  of  our  house  suits  you — \Loyal^^m>rt.  '  One  day 
I  may  call  upon  that  loyalty,  not  forTUrclf  but  for  Eric. 
One  day,  Terry,  I  may  remind  you  <»f  your  own  words,  and 
call  upon  you  to  redeem  them."     -  ^  * 

"  When  that  day  cornes,  my  lady,"  he  answers,  quietly, 
"  you  will  find  me  reatty."  »  ^ 

"  Yes,"  she  went  on,  not  heeding  him,  "  one  day  I  may 
call  upon  you  to  make  a  sadrifice,  a  great  sacrifice,  for  Eric 
and  for  me.  One  day  I  shall  tell  yoU^'  She  paused 
abruptiy,  and  looked  at  him,  and  claspfed  her  hands.  "  Oh, 
Terry  !  be  a  friend,  a  brother  to  my  boy  !  He  is  rtot  like 
/ou — he  is  reckless,  extravagant,  easily  led,  self-willed,  wild. 
He  will  go  wrong — I  fear  it — I  fear  it — and  you  must  be 
his  protector  whenever  you  can..  Let  nothing  he  ever  does, 
nothing  he  ever  says  to  you,  tempt  you  to  anger  against  him 
— tçmpt  you  to  désert  him.     Promise  me  that  !  " 

He  knelt  down  before  her,  and  with  the  grâce  a  Chevalier 
Bayard  might  hâve  envied,  the  grâce  that  cornes  from  a  triie 
h«Ait,  lifted  her  hand  to  his  lips. 

"  Nothing  that  Eric  can  ever  do,  can  ever  say.^will  tempt 
-"mê  td  anget-^that  T  swear.  ^^jriiis  sake,  afitifor  yours»  I- 


will  do  ail  man  can  ^o.    You  have  been  the  good  angel  of 


J 


TERRY. 


99 


my  life.,'"  I  would  be  less  than  man  if  I  ever  forgot  your 
goodness."  • 

She  drew  her  hands  suddenly  from  his  clasp,  and  bowed 
her  face  upon  tbem.  „  • 

"  The  good  àngel  of  your  life  1  "  she  repeated,  brokenly. 
"  Oh  !  you  don't  know — ^you  don't  know  1  "  Then  as 
suddenly,  she  lifted  her  face,  took  Terry's  bet\yeen  her  two 
hands,  and,' for  the  first  time  in  her  lifie,  kissed  him^ 

He  bowéd  his  heâd  as  to  a  bénédiction  ;  and  a  compact 

was  sealed  that  not  death  itself  could  break. 

«        *        «        «        •        *        *        «        * 

With  a  start  Lady  Dynely  awakes  from  her  dr«ini.  The 
softdarkness  of  the  spring  night  has  fallen  overthe  great 
city  ;  its  million  gas-lights  gleam  through  the  gray  gloom  ; 
carnages  areiil-oUing  up  to  the  door,  and  Terry  Dennison 
goes.down  the  .passage  outside,  whistling  an  Irish'  jig.  She 
rises.  As  shq.  does  so,  her  eyes  fall  upon  her  son's  picture 
The  light  of  a  street  làmp  falls  fuU  upon  it,  and  lights  it  up  in 
its  smiling  beauty. 

"  My  darling  !  "  sht  whispers,  passionately,  "  my  treasure  1 
what  will  you  say  to  your  mother  on  the  day  when  you  learn 
the  truth  ?  It  is  due  to  you,  and  a|i  !  dear  Heaven  !  it  is  due 
to  him.  Poor  TeVry  1  i>oor,  foolish,  gênerons  Terry  ! — who 
holds  me  little  lower  than  the  angels — who  loves  me  as  you, 
my  hearf  s  dearest,  never  will — what  will  he  think  of  me  whçn 
be  learns  the  truth  ?" 


«        ■■    A 


%i       .» 


'it 


Cî" 


■t*-^  ■",  H^ 


P 


CHAPTER  III. 

4       MADAME  FEUCIA.  . 

IW\Y  beyond  the  stately  and  stuccoed  palaces  of 

'  SSïT**  ^^T^^**  "^•'«^"^  bustle  of  the  City 
the  fashion  and  gayety  of  the  West  End,  Mr.  Lockt 

He  sun'ds  leamng  with  folded  anos  upon  the  low  wick« 

^^Z'  „  "^       •     ^'"S^'  "^  ^^««t  pathetic  song  in  an  ehn-tre^ 

S  f  ^  r^r  "^^  ^"^  ^^^  ^°^  ^«"1  drink  fn  ail  the  ender    . 
hush  and  lovehness   of  the  Mav  *.v*.nf.H-  lenaer    y? 

though.  for  his  though^  are  fiï^ffieîd  ^''^'-"""°"^;^"^'>^' 

froI*!f«^-*'"',*'T  ^*l'^^  ^'"^^  this  man'sreturh  to  England 
from  foreign  lands.  and  during  thèse  two  years  he  has  lookëd      ' 

r' Thr3,1n%"£  '^^''"^^'  half  inVad^ainnTong 

co^-nteî^h'tu^'iXdTD^^^^^^^^ 

bas  veampH  f«  iXal.        '  ^y^ely.    She  is  of  hi»  kin,  and  he    ^ 

past  is  dead  and  buried,  and  he  with  it    The  worM  thJl 
Wh.m  once,  knowshim  no  more.     Tfj^/^^^^t^ 


'^'îÈiqp.^  f: 


•^,v 


?'»V"  ""'■*!     "i' 


.'♦^-.- 


i-ir 


■l*"^    è  • 


*^^       MADAME  FeÙcIA. 
and  pain,  of  sorrow  and  disgrâce.     It  is  ail  ov^r  o«j  ^ 

gâte  and  s™otes.andfofhUi„S„\%ï°JS,  "'""  ''^ 
gorgeo„s  masses  of  pai,,,eddoudSeTjr;r„  st'""'  *° 

.»d  w  Irsrc:a"T„^,;o'„'.r%^  r--  """"-"  "-  ^ 

«M^Xy  -,  "his  ow„  son  1    Wdi.'thy  no"?-?^'"'"''  >"•»" 

da„gh"r""f!^nrca'±';a!;'f?*^3  'l^'"^'''  """baby 
.i..  Gordon  c"^  ^"Ked^^'ÎSt  .7X"^^^^ 


mih  bnuM  m  ,ha.  h.nd,„™.  «plifted  head,  ^"i'^llS 


tt^r» 


-v^ 


„'  ïd.     'a- 


y 


102 


/  * 


''ÎV 


MADAME  FEUCIA. 


heTilSiacter  ''SSnT'  »•»"* «"*««>'«=  little  chîn  bHi. 
n  rSn'iî..'"*""  ""  ■"««J'th^grea..,.  fo„Ui„',„a,. 

"Mr.  Locksley!"  ' 

looïfn!"  *J"?^'' .«'defly,  yello«r  man,  shrivelled  and  foreien- 

My  name  is  Locksley,"  the  ^rtist  replies. 
cJsare  'nf  V   ^^^"P'r,,"'^ "  hands  him  his  card.     «  Prince 

ïnLhl^ï'™.^^'L«>*'  ^'^^"«'^  f^»-  the  moment  hehid  been 

Jù7r^'  ^'''""'  *  ^^^  '^^  ^'S^'  F«»''  i?  yours,  mon. 
Mit.  Locksley  bowg.  .  >,^ 


r^-/f  »<-•."; 


,~_,r.,«-  *  .    3 


v-,-,'*'.-4; 


MADAME  FELICIA. 


103 


"Itisnotsold?" 

"Itisnot»" 

"Itis  for  sale?"  ^  ,.      - 

'        Mr.  Locksley  bows  again. 

"It  is  not  yet  disposed  of.  Good  !  Then  monsienr 
a  lady  fnend  of  mine  desires  to  do  herself  S  pS  roi 
becoming  ,ts  purchaser,  and  I  am  commissioned  a"  hei 
agent  to  treat  with  the  artist.     Its  pricei»" 

Mr.  Locksley  names  the  ï>rice,  and  inquires,  rather  sur- 

tion,  if  the  Prince  Di  Ventunni  will-  not  corne  in 

No  no-it  is  but  the  matter  of  a  moracnt-he  wili  not 
detam    Mr.  I  ocksley.»     He  produces T^Waik  check   and 
pen  there  and  then,  scrawls  for  a  âecon^ùpon  it,  then  ^^ 
a  low  bow,  a  sniile  that  shows  a  row  of  glitt^rinutee 
passes  it  across  the  little-  gâte.     The  next  Instant  heha^ 
leaped   hghtly  nito   the  phaeton,  and  the  fiery^yed    coaï 
Wack  horses,  that.look  as  though  they  had  but  lately left  the 
Plutonian  stables,  dash  away  through  the  dewy  darkness 
Mr.    Locksley   stands  with   his  breath   nearl^ïen  S 
h.m  by  the  bemldering  swiftness  of  this  nn^^Th^^S 
and  looks  at  the  check  in  his  hand.     It  is  for  3U  amoun; 
named-the  signature  is  his  excellences  own.  but  he  had 
said  the  picture  ^as  for  a  lady.  ° 

«  Who  câjï  shp  be,  I  wonder ?"  thînks  the  artist,  pocket- 
ing  the  check  firid  going  into  the  hoose  ;  "a  pers^Se  of 
rank,or-staylJhispopular  danseuse  from  over  the  water 
..hose  name  nngs  the  changes  through  London,  and  whosê 
,     beauty  and  whose  da«cing  are  the  tllk  of  the  own      The 
^  Pnnce  is  known  to  be  the  most  devoted  of  her  devôtees- 

.n  by  the  by,    spme  night  at  the  B^^u,  and  loTat  hT 
So   my  picture   is  sold  at  my  own  prie;.     Lady  Dynel^s 

fashionable  doors  are  thrown  open  to  me siuely  a  tïrn  in 

fortune's  wheel,  this."  »"*ciy  a  lurn  m 

rhîSt  ^^"^'''  u 'S^*^     ^^  ^^  the.possessor  of  more  money 

j^^,^.^^  lae  a^s  itjat  are  ^one  lie  hâs^tnown  poverty  îq — 


<  «3 


si 
"M 


im 


,- 1. 


-Vf?",/     ,C    ht,    %      V*"   . 


**^" 


'..^-r,. 


104 


MADAME  FBUCIA, 


inan   born   to 


its  bitterest  sW  the  bitter  poverty  of  a 

tbe  purple  and  fallen  from  bis  high  esTate  "- 

picture.     "  If  by  an  y  cbanfe  f£  p  •        ^""^  pi'rcha&ed  bis 

latch-ke?  and  left  The  house      "!    '  'n  ^\^^^^^^^à  his 
know."  "°"^*''     ^  ^eally  should  like   to 

.«ly  M  he  [ee„  P^it'T.h'?  ac^e  "  '2^:^  ""'^ 
The  roonas,   as  usual.   were  fiii^H     ^  inat  afternoon. 

centre  of  attraction   was  "  hL    k   '  .fr  u"'"^''   ^<^°'   ''^e 
shortlyafter  thed^rs4re.hZ'''*^-^'fht   Fell.'-     Very 

a  lady  and  gentleamn-^h^'^^^T"  ^^^^^ 

and  whodivided  the  inte^s^ifhT  ^  ""'^^'^^  *  sensation, 

The  gentleman   was  theCa^ï,  f,7tî  P'^ 

most  popular  danseuse  in  Lond'^n  M  JamTp  r '•  ^""^^   '^'  ' 

Sfehe™30»e  ^^âTF^^^^  and 

perfect,  and  she  was  dressed  inX^Ai  r  ^""'^  ^r""^^  ''''"?'/ 
silver-gray  silk  with  h^rl  o  i.?  Perfection  of  taste.  A 
andtoUsï^^:^?,fd^:,:^  «^tlel 

«nantua  maker  of  the  Rue  d;  b  p^ff  "?'""  °^^  ™"^^"''"« 
gavî  after  this  lionne  ofC„!,L«^K  ^^"^  ^^'^  ^"'"0^^^  to 
they  said  that  ever  b^unded  S?  '  ^^S  T'^  P^^^^*=*  ^^"cer 
days  of  Taglioni  T?ë  Prfnce  hunf '/°°'"!?^^  ^'"^^  ^^e 
Jightest  Word,  but  she  tumèd  Lr^?^  ^evotedly  upon  her 
J^ncing  With  .  s^^^lî^îra^^r/te  S^g'^IS 

gfeînC^^^^^^^^ 

blue  eyeSiinsiDid  a«  ,i,,,',  „   ■  J^^""" '">•' and  ch  na. 

Bah  IwVdoS'^itkiX'TôubT.Vr '''•''''  '""  """«' 


■T~7--'-rr 
■  •  ■-  1 


•'^^yji^lV^nff-:^., 


MADAME  FELICIA 

105' 

■  Ali  languor,  ail  ennurfleS^o»?  h"   r"  '"!'"  ''=^<'  '"  f""' 

■       faded-she  grew  ashen  „avT„  ,h  i'^''",  "*  "'"  '=''l'"i"S 

.pac^of  ftdly%ve  miomefKi'd'^"^  "<«•    «<>  f"r  ,1,^ 

I.al.&er  '"'''™'  «°''«'"  ^=  suave  «iceof  ,he 

her  face,  .lo^Vn^  'ie  ««  C^"''  "^^  '«»">«1«S 

glovedhand'^cruSitrcaXuV',';'"'''^'''-    <'"=^»« 
rasc,„a,ed  she  stood  Iheïfand  ïï^fS'  "a«.n«,ou.ly_as  if, 
'Thon  art   nleaserl  u;;fk    »if      • 

,     daurnin^n  h"'r  lips'.' "..  p«„'?''7  m'''  f. '''?"'' «"nous  smile 

,^;-u.^  if  i.  is  a.u  ls^^\::^^:^t^:^^ 

it.     HowdodilrcalfS^artTs  ?°\ÏS^'*^^^  """«^  hâve  - 
Prince?"  ^^^'^siey.^The  name  is  new-is  it  nm,  ' 

still  ia  the  niarket."       '^'^'''^'^y  a°d  purchase  the  picture  i( 

"  I  do  wish  it,  Monsieur  Prince     Tho*    •  ^       , 
havethopghitcosthalfafôrhmi     /«       .  P'^*"^^  ^  «""st 
^    She  tuî-ned  back  to  it  and  i^'t  A^^'Vl'''  ^'^^^  ^eU  |  •  " 
she  could  never  l4  énôugh  "^  *°^  '^^'^'^^  ^  *0"gh 

paui;  "a;\tsL^SVo1'l7  ^-^--.  ^er  a 

face  of  that  woman  in  the^  o^ctur/.c    "'''  r,**^"*^'  ^"»  t^e 

onehaIfsolpvely,bïtverySrneJ'2;ï^^  Net      . 

dàrae  perceive  it?"  ''^       ^'  "«^ertheless.    Does  ma- 


-  'VJ 


•  :$T 


•y- 


/ 


ik'W'^'^TV' 


m,. 


î   t 


,,* 


106 


MADAME  ffEUCIA, 


k 


you  ?    He  isièaving  her— is  it  noi  ?  anHTi^'h-«r»  :.  v,      ï 
«.g.    Bah  I  i,  i,  lik/.he  .g<,.i,„,  cf  Le"    ,t,  de«tt„,'  ti 

He  escorted  lier  to  her  carnage. 

At  sun^t  acrosç  the  gâte  of  the  Brimpton  cottaa*.  th. 
bargam  was  struck.  and,  «  How  the  Night  FeU "  b^c^!  Î! 
propcrty  of  Madame  Felicia,  the  actrek  ^ 


4 


\>^^- 


/ 


r' 


%:X 


rjs'P- 


,(iM  '  *.  • 


r'  ,-tlt      ï   'fcl-^ 


bi  eak< 
is  and 
îst  be 


-Si.   ,i. 


bow; 


e  the 
etbc 


/ 


r'- 


CHAPTER  IV.      . 

LADY  DYNELY'S  THURSDAY. 

IRILLIANTLY  lit.  brilliantly  filled,  Lady  Dynetv'.     - 

\n  his  cérémonie  costume,  the  artist  loôked  '«om,.»!,;»»    ' 
more  than  well,  and  tRat  military  air  of  hS^wS^^^^^^ 
«picuous  than  everi  .     ^        "»  nis  w^»  more  Con- 

niore   than  once    under  the  cowlof  a  monk      Your  mJ 

n,;l!  "*''^''  ^^"*  •''^  "^^  '"3^"^^-  Locksley.     So  you  fin*d  the 
S^/^t^"'"^*'!!^^  ^^'^'^^  P^'"^»"g.  France.  andTuwUlbe 

1^ Zl%u        -A  T^f  Y''^  ^'^""^  «'as  the  popular  new     ^ 

"  Terrv -mIÏÏV^  ^'^f'  '^"^     ^'^  '  P°°^  ^ocksley  !  ?  V* 
neveTau;moth.°?''"f^^' '"""?'>''  "^"'^"  boysshotald 

'f^.  ^  ^ss.m±'i„rr  ïi,râs= 

free.knce,  andri  hâve  hefcd.  brave  as  a  lion."    ^'^^''^^^ 
==^llJ?oJ«J  France  saidî  dreamik^.-«île^i,ar  ïfcë^ 
irire  atr  noble,    Surely  that  man  is  welfborroreS  ^ 


-~«»' 


iv 


:W.f'îfc.  ^i'vff  «î 


î% 


,<ti 


^ 


io8 


^^^^^  ^^^^^>"^  7:/7d/^^Z?^K. 


d.dn't  he?  J,  commun  caTënou.rt'"."  ^°^  *  ^«'«an* 

to  your  heart  o(  h^arts  for^at?.?^  :,  ^""^  >  °"  t'-^ke  ftifti 

ç.     Forrester?    I  know  voTh,      '^^'^'"^'^"ce.don't yoi,  Mi'S 

a  sort  oî  dert,i-god°  ^rhero  l^''^"''-''^''  Gordon  CaXn  as 

.         ^  She  smiled,   then  LheS     ck'^'PP'^^  ^'«""g  'ady."^    ^' 

haïr  caught  back  by  gleaminf  dl.f  Z""'^'  ''^  »»«  brown 
for  bnght  colorsanVrichleSs^fï'';^,  ^'^'^  ^^^^  ^  love 
on  the  white  tulle  ^vaL^^^^^  ^^^'^^^  «:"h  conte.n.n 

"  What  cJergym;#Y^  if  ?  •  f  "^  '^«'^  ^oung  lady  friehds 
operatic  airs^to^SôL^ll    once-when  he  introduced 

,  say  it  is  a  urtv/vôur  niar^;^         ^"  ^^^  sanie  princiolp   r 
.  bnghtes.  coSCj  Sfcr  tH"t"";"'"'"'-'l.i 

gems,  the  roses  and  laceT  .m,  Jh^    ."^  "'<"^.  'h'  vivid 

Cai2„''ï' >r  ^l  t>X°'fï  fr  "■"=  "-'  -x""--    The' 
I>^»»u«,„,  and  ^e  no  secre7o?  U     '"'"°  "^"'^  '°'  «' 

"Ae'S  It^aîr  atS:^-"  *  -  -".  ,„  ., . 
„^„  aiive  and  the  greatest  simpreton  ever  ae' 

"^^.SLZr^^X^^?^::^:  a:,ho,„efo|,he 

„i^xX'*Kra.'ïL^  '^-^^r^^^^^Tû,- 

"the  Nàht  Fell  "  L,  S'  *'""y  <>">era  look,  too  "Hoi 
ta^^sTin  .he  paîn'er""''''  '  ^"«"o"  i  'herVeela  langue 
^  i^™^"  Mr.  DennW  sa,,  afte,  ^^  ^^  „  ,  ^^^ 

1 — _] : — ". : 


-Xy!-, 


\  - 


" .  1" 


>>'•'.? 


y-} 


A  L^Oy  J,yjfej.y,s  TKURSDAy. 

and  au  that  soriof  "ifif  Z/^^  '^^  '^^"^  °^  ^js  fathérf, 
,      fortune.      It  would  beTS'coZo"r,' ,!°  ^'^^  y^""  <>"*  of  a 
stage,  now  wouMn't  j^p  .l'"^^'»^'"^"^/  l^ke  a  ihing  on   the 

.    dainSy  t!jili''  .^f  "l,^'^  ^^^  «^^ge.»  Miss  Forrester  dis- 

'    life.     Ah.  no      hat  wouTd  bet^;^  "n'ike  anything  i^rS 

-    Caryll.  poor  fellow,  is  dead       Tr?J°  "^^  ''""•     ^^^^on 

..sees,  if  indeed  she  sees  anv  î,  k  ?    ''''•^"^'^  ^^^X  "^y^^^ 

is  beckoning-let  us  go  ove;-  ^  ^°'»^'d«"ce.     See,  she 

ihey  cross  the  rooin.     Mis.»  -'^«vr^e* 
of  welcome,  and  lookîng  yZ  ^Z'^Vf"  ^  ^^^nk^s-nile 
arust  a  most  gracions  grfetln7  '^''^'  ^'"'"^  ''^« 

do  thVhTnorof7n;%';:j,l-^2/-ce,  and  want  you  to 
better  cicérone,  Mr.  Lockclfv  T  °",  '"""'^  "°^  ^^^ve  a 
says  in  an    t     Wre^^^^^^^^^  as  she 

„.^^ And  fannharuy  breeds  contfn,pt,.*rur.  Mr.  Den. 

^^^  ^^^^.^^  ^^^  .^-<^^  Miss 
you,  Terry,  that  sarcasni  i^n-f  1  c  *°  ""P''°««  "Pon 
much  pleasure  in  dTsSL  bur  In"^"  ^°"^-  ^  ^''^"  ^ave 
eyes,  Mr.  Locksley.  iSvs  fee  '«  T'  ^^ /«"^  "itical 
with  artists-they  were  the^stanfi    %  '''?^/^'-'"nn>ediately 

Rome     Jt  i3  th^  hoS,^d  of  „tiu3  "L^h"'"^ 

there,  I  can  see."  genius.     You  hâve  studied 

l'ghts  up  his  dark,  S  L^^r  ^  "^  ^""^  ''^^^  «"""^ 
many  times."  *^^      iace~«l  bave  seen  you  there 

life'sktclg  in"îhe'%S  ''lî.?"^'  \  '^^'  ^'^  "7 


.  ?*'r- 


B 


V 


l 


IIO 


LADY  DYNELV-s  THURSDAY. 


ad.Snnrï;es'""  "^°"  *^  ^"^^  ^«-^X  ^^ce  with  gravai, 

-est  -?ual"b::;eî'"fays^^^^^^^  ^^^^  .,ust  strike  the 
a  second  ideà,  "  and  £  fs"  h  "'.  "^""1^' '"'^"^  ^"^ 
Roman  poses  !  They  werë  sn,th«  •  ^^'"^"^able  dearth  of 
.1  was  there,  one  haT  M^V^n^ii^Vr"  ""{  "°'"^'  "'^^" 
Placent,,  a.  an  opposite  .U?'..  'Zla^:SZ^. 

and  niottu  of  the  DySsr      '  ^"^^*^°«ed  with  the  arms 
"  Loyal  au  mort." 

r'^T^^iS,r^^^^f^f^-  --=  passes, 
room."  ""^^  °/  ^  '^a°»  one  of  the  gems  of  the 


hîs  wives,  isn't  it  ?    Thèse  ôlrTmT*  ""*'^  ^  ™®^°'     ^"^  of 

four,  hadn't  theyJone  burLd  'toT     '  ^^^""^^  ^"^  ^^'^^  «r 

to  marrya  rnaVorgenbl    F^n^' "^'"^  °°-    -^O"  «"ght 

♦capital  iife  for  one  woudn'^v^T'  ^^^  ^°"^^  «^ake  a 

his  side.  urging  hTm'oZote  ^Tull  ^C'  S^  ^""^  '-^ 

.Pai-Iiaraent  you  would  havJ.  hK«  ^^     ^^  ^^  '^ere  in 

artist  you  would  W  hiraMTchl.^T        ""-^  ^^^^ -" 

Beethoven,  eh?  wouidn't  you  ?-  ^°«^^^'*'  '^  ""^'^1'  « 

r^hav^^^^l^s^ef  tr^^^^^  Irr."^?  — ' 
wife  of  a  man  of  genius  is  a Tôciat  mlr?^  ^^  ^^"^^  '^^ 
cross  while  her  hufband  wears  the loTn^  "**°  *^^^  *« 

Thet;^::s:rr^a^^i>iy^ 


,.  *  ; 


\        — 


:ïJB-- 


iiyrA34.'iïJft^;*;4(t,,  .•^'*  ^  a^  „..   *-^-^ 


t..  -  * 


Women   never  write  hn?U        ^ou   monopolize  ail   that. 

statues.  GW  Eliot  Ro4  S'  T"'  l';"'"''"^  °^  ^^^« 
ail  are  myths  GeS  £  !k  bonheur,  Miss  Hosmer,  etc., 
master-Man  »  ''  '^'    Prérogative  of  our  lord  and 

W'Sckikff:,iH""^°'!fi"^^  prérogative  then,"  says 
waL'ttr^  t^îeVv^rt;.  cut^-i'^""?»'    "^^^  ^-"- 

I  ain-engaged  for  «,?„,;,      i.  "  "5"''^  ''''""  J"»"  «de. 
barsafar  off"  "'  "^"^  "■"'  ^  •""  «>a  o,«m„g 

such  a  frt.i  K  •  u.         somehow  niissed  my  destin v.     It  is 
«•nm  bas  haum^  e^  S^^    The  ftce  of  tha 


'■ ->  . 
'kit». 


,.*^ 


i 

il  A 


112 


^ADY  bYNELY^S  THUUSDAY. 


'     V 


siill  alive  ?  >■    '  '""'°-    ^»  ">«  o-raer  of  (ha.  wondS  &ce 

out  of  ,he  world  SI?  L  if ï'  """•  "»»•«  as  ,ha,  are  Si 

Hour  very  beautiful  she  miref  h,       u         , 
dream,ly;  «even  wieh  that  S,*"!?  b«n,"  France  says 
is  beautiful  still."  *'  tortured  look  you  give  lier  £ 

Jt|y„ra  iuTanswrt  T'"'"'  ".■='"  «"•»'         • 
offended.    Ali.tleou.ofehefineôfH""''^  Forrester  is  not 
she  certa^nly  miirht  h- fc„tj     "'"""■<=  younïladvhooH 

"pthedarkgravitfor4'alriTelL'r\    ^-'^l^reaks 
Vou  honor  my  poor  oainfîn^  î    ^^^  ^"'^^  »*  her. 

pver  and  donc  with  marTv  »  i  ^®  ^^^''^  "  tells— that  is 

hâve  painted  is  cSe  nori^orthva^/'"."«?'     ^he  woL.n  I 

hardly  know-it  was  the  whim^f  ^^'^  P*»"ted  that  I  < 

hâve  the  success  it  has  nie"  ihh  î  SiZ ^3^""^'*'  ''  -«"^ 
She  colorsslightly.  he  ««ee^y  Vo  ht^  "1?!.^ "  '  ^^~— 

„,  __  „  —-w^  **buketf  her  iirepre». 


.■/^ 


>  ♦ 


"^^^^m- 


^j.        -wsi  j. 


1   "■ 


Z^Z>I'  ^K<V£-/; K,.y   tHURSDA Y. 


.    They  say  no  more  about  "  How  the  NiVht  P^ii  »     -ru 

f«h  f  „  S:  ahigWKe^J!!™'  '".  "?  '■^«.=.  ""d  France 
,     to  .he  perfmned  ^^r^^^\Z^Jf^l  for  re.urning 

J^on  .a.  ..e  .as  P^^=^^f  pi%^dS  Vln-LSt 

is  as  curious  about  it  as  I  am  "  '  ^  ^''''^^"^  '^^ 

awray,  and  conies  ud  to  Franr*.  oo  »»,„•         i      .      .   "'^^.ks 

.n  love  wS  iti.  sigh*!  Se™     ■£=  "•  ,  *»  «he  ladie,  faU 
artists."  '  »gn^  i  Delieve.    How  forlunate  are  thèse 


••'1?' 


*■ 


U  IBM  Felicia.' 


j^^s^@ii^^îs 


\  <n 


.i. 


'"  ^'"  -.-  é^'^i'T-^'  ' 4>  5,-isi»^^";^^  ^s?.??^^^' 


I  Àk  ** 


114  ZADV  DYNELY^S   THURSDAY. 

•' Fclicia,  the  actress  !  the—" 

synon^ms  ivith  Fdicia."  "  ^'^  ^"^  *°  ^ave  are 

.. .    yello.  excfellenc;s  t 'o  goôd  t^S'Vt^  '^'^  -^^  ^•^  ^•"^"• 
thmg  môre  than  annoyiSg-a "o JtU  aSdin^^^^^ 

carrL;:rîoÏ:i^^^^  byone  coroneted 

of  Ladj^^Dynd/  ^""^  °'"'^^'^  ^"d  takes  leave 

"  How  do  you  like  yoùr  genius.  France  ?  "  ;«^  •       -r. 
Dennison.     «Does  he  bear  the  ordil  of  H     '^•''■^'  ^^''^3' 

OJ  the  Cheapside  tailor's  son  ?  "  '  "^  *^^^® 

"'"Sra'el    Ofwhomthen?" 

régal  „re«„ceB„VaJl  fhejrioÂS"1î^"'«'  '"  ^^^ 
lA>i)dbn  Sun."  •  '  "othuig  like  her  nnder  Uie 

i*ef  '■"^^  """  '>"'  r«  ««""l-'oly  '«minous  «  he  «„.       " 


^^■?i*S5p%j 


fgrcver  IV  Pooiv  geod,.iKmesr' 


•^r 


4 


•A,^,-''  «i-i 


-*      .A 


rr,-.. 


'■^^"! 


^      the.omenyounZyLppy"      ''"""'^  ""' "^°  ^^--'^^ 
at  fno"hfrC;r «^  '^^  ^-  --^'  -J  her  «ind  goes  ofl 

Royal  Bijou  to-.no?fo^n.W  Ïk  ^^^'  '^V^  ^"^  ^^  ^^e 
thèse  peopleoweT£^hL?  ^t"''^''^''^"^^°««'  but 
powder,  and  Xr  She  hL^  '^'  ^  'Î^PP^'^'  ***  P^'"^  ^nd 
she  need  notS  been  ir!?.S  excephonally  well.  too  ;.but 

She panses  inTer wand^rin^ïhn^^L^^^^^^  '^^'  P'^^"^«" 

lights.     1 1  Èars  thJ^  Ï«S  5     **'^'  ""^^'"  ^^^  clustering  wax- 
cLiation  oHoy  Miss  For'rtP'"'"""^  ^"^'  ^"'^  ^  l'"^«  e''' 

and  reads'eSy  tSon^h     ?ï  ^^'' r^^^  ^''''^'  ''^«  ««^l 

this^alliance  TS^  fL^fel^^^^^^^  ^î^^^^ '^  «^ 
h'.s  happy  wife  is  the  désire  of  Iv  heart  ^?V  k-  '*'^.  J""" 
clearest  ^vish  also.  In  everv  rîlL.?  *  •  "^* '^  his  01011161^8 
both  dowered  wUh  vomh  ?J  I  'll."^'  "  »*  '"««^  suitable— 
you  I  am  s'^1  iinC*^A"M^^^  ^"^  beauty.  He  loves 
had  you  let  h  m      But  vo.f  h.  ï   ^^^^^'P^''^"  before  now 

nature  my  dearest  child,  so  uX^heT^rl^f  '^''"^^'"  ** 
.    so  self-willed.  and  radical  in  3,      •  •    8'"^  of  your  âge,    . 
you.     Not  that  you  toSîd  Z/rZ  ''T''''^  ^^^'^  ^^"  ^^' 
no  dread  of  thaVyou  are  fir  t^Jn"^  ^"k^'^  ^°"-     ^  »»»^e  ' 
fome  one  whom  your  fancv  wmlr?'*  '  ^'^'  y°"  «"^^  «'««< 

aaaiostit— l*»f  ««..V:  '      7  ""^  *bis  will  be  so.    Guard 

■gwost  it-let  your  engagenien/  with  Erip  be  announoS^ 


■v" 


■    ^\ 


>i1 


^^^. 


■.**> 


vï»-. 


m 


ti6 


fa 


> 


^Z)K  Z)rAr^ZK'J   THURSDAY. 


'       •  "  Marian  Caryll." 

Caryll's  wishescarried  force  h^f^"      PetiHant,  and  ail  Mrs 

\      Eric  Dynely,"  she  sairl   "  o  ^"*'"fr  «he  would  or  no 
fumedcoxcimbfkdandvoffh/fiT''"''"-^  «'^^  doll,  a  L. 
I  detest  pretty  \l^T\  lufd^iîl^^'."'"  '    '  ^^'^  dandys  - 
son  any  day  J  •'        .       ^  "^^"^^  «>oner  marry  Teriy  Denni 

as"deand  leaned  out  into  the' f  ish^l^^ '*  î«  P"^  ^hem 

"  The  dày  for  thi«!  cnr*  ^r  •  ^ 

çentury  ago."  she  thinks  fuil  "r?'*^^-^''^"'^  ^ave  ended  a 
of  alliance  should  be  leVt "o  /oiT^'ï  ?*'"  '  "^his  kb5 
it  seems  to  be  toy  faté  h  °^^^^^'  ^"^  «^^/„^^  ^^.J^j" 
I  kno,.,  the  be7second?n  «7"^r"'  '^«  best  ^tS 
grâce  of  a  Beau  ir^^^^^t^l^Jf  "t'  '""^  ^^^  ^^ 
-what  more  can  one  wam  ?  a?S  ''^''*  ""^  ^^  ApolJo 
H;e.   does  he,  grandmanfma?  l"h    ^'' ,^"1,^°^«-    Loves 

gleaming  through  ihe  fairneTôf  L  k  •  ""***  "'  «'"« 
Wa»Jto.C«,.U„»ongU„p„p„^, 


h^^'^v'''^-'','*?^ 


i    ,-v^ 


1 


CHAPTER  V. 

LOVE  TOOK  UP  THE  ^ij^  qF 


f  TIME. 


Win  his  bHdl  ^""™^'  ^-^  '^^^  i^'/wan^ly  ?X^S  ï„1 

had  predicted,  a  sensation.  A  cerSn  roi  ^^^«^^'"7 
whose  approval  wa«.  a  «»»-«♦  •  u  •  '^^f'"  ^yal  personage, 
itself,  haS  œ^esœnded  to  nl'J^l- ""^  "^^^  ^^  popularity  ,'â 
probation  upTher  and  MU,  L  '^''^"^  stamp  of  a,,- 

words  told  the  whole  storv      w^      !.   ,     .*"^^*  ^'"o  magie 

for  the  favor  o{TwlhzLltJ^''-'t  ,^«n  .^^iplomatized 
^ent.  In  t1i«^  ride  fn  tht  1^7  ™'^'''  ^°i  P"'»*^^'^'  prefer- 
Forrester  wastti  1  the  be^Ï  .uÏ^un'Sï'^        opera-box"  Miss 

peersasked.     "It  isn't  her  bea^fti    i     her  envious  coni-    . 


îling— an|^( 


.j" 


p-^'o  iw'BTîJSvsr^rsjt^ 


îi 


9-''    "!    I-' 


'4* 


Ii8 
I 


^c.^^  r^o^  ^^  ^^^  ^^^^^  ^^  ^^^^ 


with  lông-hair7d,^?:a:i^'^;:3^  ^  disœuTseîi? 

Clans,  or  the  latest  Belffravian  W  •      '•  u""*  «^a^^ly  academi- 

not  the  man;  her  hearf  ,y  "^ '^^^ '"^erested  m  the  thème 
clad  in  steel^no  one  it  seemedT?"^  °"^'  "^  ^ 
And  then,  presenilv  it  leaLn ^^^f  .î       ,  »'°«'^'"  f»  touch  it 
for  years  to  Lbrd^nel  fnd    . 'TIk''"  ^^^  be#h  engjg '^ 
be  pubUcIy  anounced  to  allwL™^^       .engagement  SoulJ 

•  fauh  m  hià  affianceà  "  saiv!  S«     '^  ^®  '""st  hâve  great 

[n  no  hôt  haste  to  joi^W     T^'"^''  '  ^^  ^^'''^'n'y  «ee^  Sd 
had  said  "no"  to  tio  of  the  mo^T^'''  ^'«^  ^«"e   eï  . 
sea8on,andwhohadfonowedrri?*'**l^«^"''e™enonhe    ~ 
l'ke  her  lap-dog  or  Lr  shadot      ^''°"'  ^'^^  ^"'»™«^  through! 

vict6;%r£7o^âte^'tï^^^^  ^""-t  careerof 

Locksley  the  Paintr^SrSel  t^ed Tn^  ï"?  °"^  ^  "^° 
•  t^une  seemed  niade.     Madame  pï^.vf  ."  ^^"^^  ^nd  for! 

a  çompanion  picture  to  "  âot  thJij-  f  "U'^  ^''^  P""^^  for 
quis  of  St.  Albans  had  orderld  f  ct'/'^^"  ■  '^^^  ^^'■ 
Lady  Dynely  wished  to  hâve  hef  own  n^^'f"  •  ^'"'^^  «<=^"e. 
her  son.  The  sittings  for  tln^L^Z.r'''^"'.''^'"^^^  for  ; 
vjsits  to  the  Bromptfn  Stud  o  ^nï  î>r?^^^'"^^^^'  "'^"y 
almost  'invariably  my  ladv"c  în^     •^'''   Forrester  was   - 

aboutamongVtheVin';fng^at^^^S^;h  ^"îV^^^dered 
.  ?^ïayback,andlistenedwithhaf:.i     ^'  the  elder  lady  sat 
'ey  talking  whilst  hè  painteS      H^'tlfe^  *?,  '^''  ^^"^^J^s- 
feemed  to  hâve  been  ,ie«v  m.,rh %   ^^u""^"'  ^"^  as  he  v: 
iects  enough.  ,  AnecdoKhT,  in^-  '''î^r*'^^^'^""^  sub- 
campaigniSg,.the  pig  st  ckW  i    •'^'^"J''^''  ^''«  %hting.  the 
w^r.thrillingand  vfvfdSnS     °\T  ""^  ^^^  American^civiî    - 
-nh  its  brie!  ^ot'^SZTtSZ^'l'^!  ^'î^'"'  «^Can^di    ' 

fyn^  ^nîl^^l-îït;;^  c^panion,'  Lady 

W    What  a  traveS'hetL  ^f  JÎ!"  ^">^  "«»  ^ 
*nd  seeo  eveiything."  ^^  '^°~'>een  everywhei^ 


m 


4 


Ai#^'à 


- 1'  ^i- 


I";-  .  ^=vV5^^'->C5^';r-"T^7:^>^";^^^ 


sation.     And  vet  tho..ah  thY  ^"^\ J'^e  charm  of  his  conver- 
open  .vindow  watcE  the  B^n^Pton^ttage,  sitting  by  the 

tened,  were  the  ulëllô.    /  u"^  ^^>'  ^^"«'y  «at  and  lis- 

had  kno«Tî  :  but  thèse  wer^r?  V  ^  ^"?.-^  ,''''"'  «^""^  otiîer 
She  and   Mr    L^ksTev  m^^  ?T  *îV''^=  *  <=hampagne. 

..   ««-■»-.endedi;t:nraIs"£idX^ 

^  -l;:r:;reThï:r^7tr  ^^^"^^^^  ^-^''^-tsiSr^^^^^^^ 

NthereSl^htint^J::^^^^^^  to  note 

glances  at  the  dc^r  tLTdden  t  ifr*  '^  ^"•'^'^'  '"'P^^'^"^ 
'when  a  ne«r  name  was  annnn  ^T  ^'^^^  ^^"'«  «^«^  her 
noyedinn^atienceonî^^^^^^^^^^ 

spread  oyer  hcr  far*.  U  f,  °' 5»"^  "ght  and  warinth  that 
wished  Th^T^nh^Ll    u'^'''  ^^^""'  the  name  she 

Locksle/s^o^gTl^^C^^Th^^o^^^^^^  "«'  M- 

ofmen-presenflvhefonnHh-       ^îul"^^'^'  '^^^^  presuniing 
holding  the  littUîKedZnST^^^  Forrestefs  sideT 

In  the  park,  too  leaminVnL.  .k      ^,°^'^^'"  «"""'est  sniiles. 

cigar,  AÏr.  iloSley^^^^^^^^ 
-   from  a  certain  «omnl^L         favored  with  a  gracions  bow 

fran^ed  i" Ti^-i^r:  ^S^f;  ^^^^^^  ' 

upon  him  for  an  instanriilff  »  f  !  ""^  rosebuds,  shone 
dierly  figure,  that  bS.  ^  fïeT;*  ^'^^'  '^"^  ^^'- 
recognition,  Miss  Forrester  w^^^S^iT'  î^^^  ^"^''^  «'*"'e  «^ 
thousand.  'orrester  would  liave  known  aniong  ten 

Aud  stiU  Lord  ûynely  did  not  come.^ 

or  to  Tenf .  knitW  h^  hlnnl  k    °''^'"  *S^'"'  *<>  '^«^«eli; 
stapd.    Sq  fond  3^  f.  .flfrl^  ^i?T^  "J  ^»'t  iîndeiL_ 


^'. 


1^'  ^dé?'-i 


# 


.-s-i^i 


■'^,■-0.;: 


fi 


,  «.•'  ■ 


120     ^r)*'^  iroo^  i/p  r^£  glass  of  tims. 

can  t  h^lp  sm, hng  on  men  and  turqing  their  heads  anv^ 

Sun  AnU  if  thq  sun  scorches  and  shrivels  theSMii  r 
don't  see  that  the  s»n  is  to  be  biamed  diher  ^Ê^Mk^^'  / 
ica  ,  that.  don't  if  ?  "  «aJH  t^       «'"Ç"  citner.     Qipiprpoet- 

"Uncomïïionly  well,"  says  Terrv      '««în  «^«11  «i    .  t  r 

••  WelM' woîr?"';^;,"  h"n.s  Teny  „„der  his  breath. 
like."  ^'  8°  "'^  »"''  '«'h  him  if  you 

answers,  bufc*smothrre^^lI«Î^^HK'!Le™î^     t 

weeltf, 

SOI 


If  I  could  only  hâve  got  off  duty  for  a  week-i„.,f  » 
^e  had  sa.d  pathetically  once  to  FianceT"  1%^",!'? 


Hng  in  the  world— -''^ 


UMJÉe^^earest^sweetes^ 


« 


Xf^f/J'*' »**?" ,  .M'a"  ..•^-  »  K.^ 


'  '.*  *  I  ^ V     . 


\"' 


'.^m 


»  -rf' 


'        "?nvf°r"*'v'"**'^Pt' France,  gravely. 
And  l've  ,been  awfullv  fnnH  Js  u    ^ 
roundabonts.  and  she  S  '°" ^^  ^^»-  «ver  since  I  wrore 
8houId*r,andrSjÏLlo  elX^^^^^  up  op  the 

feission  and  the  file  hundred  U  *  «"^'^  "^'^^  "^  <=^'"- 

»narry  and  keep  a  wife  on  his  ni!  Lh  «       J^  ^"""^  <=°"'d 
çouldn't.  he.  France?     Tust  l%f^    ^*^u  ^f ''^'^*^^  » X^âr, 

hors^^shay-eA?  Couldn'  they  Sn^  >  ïï'^f  ""^  *  °°'^- 
expensive,  as  tady  Dynelv  said  th/^?K  ^  ^^  ^^^^  «in't 
ï^ranceJ  J  see  lotsofLT  ^^*^  «'her  day,  and  she-ah 
dashing.  girKTnd;;e«y|  i\^rnnr""-J°*>'  girls.,and/ 

.   niy  Word,  not  oneialfLCod  or  swe^rr"^  '  «^^^''^^ 
•   little  Crystal I"  *^      '       **'*^®'»  ^r  pretty,  as  my 

in  awe  of  her.      But  F^nœ  sv!,^"^''^"^'^^^"'  *»«  «^ands 
j  than  everin  thèse  làterryîand^Sîi^!?  ^*^  *^^'  "«'^ 

insipid.)    Thafe   haff  a  Zd  L   J'n  ^^'^P*»  *<^  *  ' 
mysçlf.»  *"  *   ™'"d  to  iall  m   love  witb  ybu 

.bc;2fV:l„l°S^^^^^^^  Piteously;  .^tit  \ 

«pon  it.  I  shoufi  knockl^^der  J  °  ^  *'°^"    ^^  ^"  »°*ted 

do  what  they  please  m'ih  ™/?n/?,^~^^^        *^°  aï'^ays 

,«»»onId  never.m^n<S't  Irî^^'^^r'^'^^'  P«>P«e     ' 
/to  Eric"  ^        ^^*'*  '  ^o«  ;  besides,  you  beuJng 


««« 


The  absent  are  alwa.ys  in  the 


wrpng,'  »  Miss  Eorrester 

-r 


f 
i 


11»: 


MU.'     B     ii'HI 


•«;«*,« -.-ar-; 


mmm%wx 


'v 


't  .      .  ,'  ■  /  '       '  ^^ 

122       LOVEmTOOy  UP  THE   GLASS  OF  TIME. 

quotas.  "I^don't  see  why  ray  lady  shbuid  be  angry  wifh 
Eric — l'm  not.  Let  the  poor  boy  enjoy  himself.  But,  for 
you,  Terry,  you  shall  go  down  to  Lincolnshire  to-morrow,  if 
.  /you  wish  it.^*It  is  too  bad.  and  too  selfish  of  us,  to  keep 
you  lied  to  our  a|)ron-strings  when  thé  prettiest  and  sweetest 
girl  in  England  is  pining  for  you  among  ihô  Lincolnshire  fens 
and  raarshes.  I  shall  speak  to  Lady  Dynely,  at  once. 
Yours  is  the  most  aggravated  case  of  ^  crueity  to  animais  '  on 
record."  ' 

"  No,  no  !     It  may  annoy  Lady  Dynely— I  would  nôt  fbc  , 
the   world.     My  affairs  can  wait,"   Terry  remonstrates  in 
alarm. 

"  Sp  can  ours.  I  ana  very  fond  of  my  lady,  jbut  I  don't 
worship  the  ground  she  walks  on,  as  some  people  do.  I 
shall  ask  her." 

Miss  Forrester  képt  her  word.  She  sought  out  liady 
Dynely,  and  broached  the  subject  at  once. 

"Lady  Dynely,  can't  you  let  Terry  off  duty  for  a  couple 
of  weèks  ?  The  poor  fellow  is  falling  a  prey  •  to  green  and 
yellow  melancholy,'  and  the  '  worm  i'  th^  bud  is  p^eying  on  his 
damask  cheek.'  In  plain  English,  he*s  in  love;  and  nôw 
that  your  generosity  has  given  him  something  to  live  on,  he 
naturally  wanls  to  go  and  tell  her— wants  to  lay  his  hand 
and  fortune  at  her  feet,  and  do  the  ^  corne,  share  my  cottage, 
gentle  maid  '  sort  of  Ihing,  you  know." 

France  spoke  lightly.  Lady  Dynely  laid  down  her  pen— 
she  was  writing  that  indignant  prbtest  to  Master  Eric— and 
looked  up  with  a  face  that  turned  to  the  color  of  ashes. 

H  Wants  to  marry  I— Terry  I  "  was  ail  she  could  say. 

"  Naturally.  We  hâve  niade  him  our  ♦  fetch  and  carry  ' 
spaniel,  I  know  ;  but  he  is  a  man  for  ail  that.  We  bave 
treated  him  as  though  he  were  a  page  or  footnian  ;  but  he  is 
a  lieutenapt  of  dragoons,  and  nearly  twenty-four  years  old. 
Not  a  Methuselah)  certainly,  but  old  enough  to  take  unto 
himself  a  wife  if  he  wishes  to  perpetrate  that  sort  of  imbe* 
cility." 

"  Terry  I  a  wife  4"  Then  Lady  Dynely  sits  still,  and 
over  the  grav  ^allor.of  her  face  a  look  of  angpr  flashp».    _ 


^•^^l 


i 

s 
i 

P 

h 

n< 
to 

P« 


«TTw  a 


gray  pallor  c 
iMÏÏrdP-îtTs 


preposterous  I     Terry  with  a  wife  I 


arc 


U.',  -. 


.        JîJ\.'^--"'yag„,wn-upbabyhi„sel.     I  .m  «^t  hear 

"  She  is  one  of  the  M  ss  Sinse-^  tk  ^^  ^^  ^  " 
Higginses.»  says  France,  wiS  fSr  J}î'^  ^^  "'"^  Miss 
youngest  but  one,  poor  hTia     t^^*  '''^^^^'■-     "  She  is  the 

,  jove  with  each  other  everSe  ÏV^  .^""^  '^^  ^^''^  ^een  in  • 
bowl  and  wore  pinafores     And  f  X.-^fP^P^"*^^  ^^e  sanie 

.^   Lady  Dynely,"  concIuSs  Fr^Je^ï  "  '^  1  «*"«  ^oo  bad, 

'   ^s^ï^ii;:îf iiS^^^"'^  "^^  ^-' . 

n^^^5hnn^thir;uliect"'^^^^^^  "I  wiU 

France.  ia,^*îo/4,V^?.^?^^^       the  poor  fellow,"  pieads 

"  s  the  faL  of 'f^.  mot^'e;s%e\"''^'  '*^c^°^^«  J'' "  a 
beheve  if  you  order  him  to^U  „„  J— ^     ^o  well  that  I 
turn  Trappist.  he  will  obey  vo«^  5"  ^"^'  *°«°  ^''^y  and 

inerciful-^on'tbehardon^em  '.   "^^  ^°"  "«  «^rong,  b^ 
Then  she  eoes  an^  t^JI      *^* 

f^«sh  and  gSilt;;  mt?a7heTed%o?o  t'^ «-«only 
steahng  down  in  Lincoinshire  \nnîl  ^°  '^''^"  *^"«ht  apple- 
fore  the  vicar  to  answe  for  hi  °c  W  %^  '^f  falfed  u^be- 
pale  very  pale,  her  lips  are'set  hTr ^^  ^V  ^^>'*'»'P  «  »«« 
hands  that  are  folded  in  L  ,  '  .  ^11  ^°*'''  a"^»0"s,  the 
approach.  ""  ^^"^  ^^p  tremble  nervously  at  his 

"  What  is  this,  Terrv  ?»  ci,»      1 

"  You  really  ^ "  ?"'"•  '°*"«  "P  bmly  eni„g"  5^' 

..       **  I  Jaallu  tî^fc^tj.-^^rr» — = — 


'H  are 


«  T  —  „    'V  wisn  iti"'  -    • 


,*^ 


^I^RÇ^-^f^^ 


124 


IVE  TOOK  UP  THE   GL4SS  QF  TIMB 


.1  -'' 


1  . 


«* 


\-.  =■ 


3ro.unger  than  your  years — in  spite  of  ail  you  hâve  lived  in 
the  world,  you  are  as  ignorant  of  it  as  a  girl  in  her  teens.  I 
don't  object  to  that  ;  I  like  you  the  better  for  it  indeed.  But 
you  are  not  up  to  the  rôle  of  Benedick,  the  married  man. 
And  besides,  the  incoine  that  is  sufficient  for  you,  with  your 
simple  habits,  will  not  suflice  for'a  wife  and  family.  I  can't 
conçoive  of  you  in  love,  Terry,  you  who  treat  ail  the  you 
ladies  of  your  acquaintance  with  an  indifiference  as  unéatt 
ing  as  I  am  sure  it  is  sincère."  4   ».  ,*  ^ 

^  "I  love  Crystal,"  is  Terry*»  answer,  and  his  blue  éj^es 
light.  "  I  hâve  loved  her  pretty  mucb,  I  think,  since  I  saw 
her  first." 

«  And  she— "       ' 

"Oh,  I  don't  knoW' — she  likes  me,. that  I  am  sure  of. 
She  is  only  seventeen,  I^y  Dynely,  and  know$  nothing  ol 
the  world  beyond  the  vicarage,  the  villase,  and  her  native 
marshes.  And  yet  I  think  when  I  ask  her  to  be  niy  wife 
she  will  not  refu^." 

"  You  mean  to  ask  her  then  ?  " 

"  With  your  permission,  Lady  Dynely." 

She  lays  her  hand  on  his  head  ;  her  hps  tremble. 

"  You  are  a  good  boy,  Terry  ;  it  would  be  difficult  to  be 
hard  to  you  if  one  wished.  ftit  I  don't  wish.  I  only  ask 
this — postpone  your  visit  for  a  little,  don't  ask  her  to  be 
your  wife  until — until  Eric  cornes." 

He  lifts  her  hand  and  kisses  it 

"  It  shail  be  as  you  please,"  he  answers. 

"  Until  Eric  cornes,"  she  repeats,  and  that  grayish  pallor 
is  on  her  face,  that  troubled  Jook  in  her  eyes.  "Ihave 
something  to  tell  hi»n — something  to  tell  you.  When  that  is 
told  you  shall  do  a»  you  please — you  will  be  absolutely  your 
own  master  thencefurth."  ^ 

"You  are  not  angry,  Lady  Dynely?"  Terry  asks,  jn  à 
troubled  tOQç. 

" Angry I  with  you?  Ah,  no,  Terry;  you  hâve  never 
given  me  cause  for  anger  in  your  life."  She  sighs  heavily  ; 
6he  thinksof  one,  as  dear  to  her  as  the  veiy  heart  bea^e  in 
her  boaoïw;  adu)  has  ff*ea^h«^€auge|»4mgcroftq»^ 


f .'. 


^s 


\ii  -y.,- 


ff'f. 


*f^ 


'„*■■>  c^r^l, 


I, 


-«y 


zor^  rooir  w»  ^^^  ^Imss  oit  rmE. 


I2S 


*^ 


"It  is  a  compad  between  im      v«.,     •« 
hâve  toldyou  what  I  hav^o  V  Ji  k  r      "  ""'"  '^^^  ""t»!  I 

mystified  look  on  his  fecf'h/       ^^^°'  '"''^  *  ^'•««Wed. 
tell  ;  what  can  it  be  ?  "  Mr  n    f  • ''  *'"*'     "  Something  tô 

pie  life.  and  they^^X  S^  "^^'-  ^is  sim. 

For  Lady  Dyneinie  dmrïV    f"^'^.' '''™  ^''«^  they  do. 
passionate  cry  ^    *'  ^^"^^  '"^  ^^  *»a°ds  with  a 

isW-i:£ ''^"^  ^  '''''''  '""^  -b^^  "-d  no.  the  dar 

hei{£:fe-^JS^  NotJu.yet-. 

Fo.esî^ïsX-n'r^L?^"^'^  P^^'--  '"  «  Miss 
do  with  it?  If  Udv  Dvli  '  ^!^^^'  ^^^  ^"n  has  Eric  to 
revolve  at  Er^i's  pf^^^    L'*'!^'  '""f  '^ï?^^  ^°^'^  '^o^'d 

his  sovereign  will.^Tneed  not  ask°M^^  •'* '^^ 

mean  to  obey  ?  »  *'  ^r.  Dennison,  if  y©u 

I  thought  gra'i°Xan«?L?'''r' '■'="' '''W.anoaare. 

darkagy^oftetchmel^Ï"!^^^^^  -*  <•>« 

etate  Lad/  Dyndr  in  a  wa/tC  S  -    .        '"'«  »"<•  »«■>- 

tude  can  ever  repay  he""  '   ^"^  "''•'  "  "o  giati- 

ship   to   the    Dyn"5^'fami^  L!^  "  °"t    ^'^'  ''^^'- 
'••■  on  rth- ■Kg'lZ^'^^^^'""^ fi» yo«^'' 


',0     "       X' 


■va 

il- 


w^":i'.l^;^-.ii- 


,4^- 


i^-s" 


-r 


k-'3' 


IfTî 


fiçr. 


~.f~   ' 


.  t.- 


126       l-OFE  TOQfT  UP  THE  GLASS  OF  TIME. 

f   ' 
squalor  that  he  vaguely  remenibers,  also  that  those  With 
whom  his  early  years  were  spent  were  kind  to  him,  in  a  niV 
sort  of  way.    Mvtt  of  this  blurred  picture,  the  rainy  da 
upon  which  she  entered  their  hovel,  like  à  veryangel|o^ 
light,  with  her  fair  face  and  rich  gannents,  stands  out  clefar. 
She  came,  and  ail  his  life  changed.     No  mother  could  do 
more  for  a  son  than  she  had  done  for  him. 

"  Could  they  not  ?  "  Miss  Forrester  says,  rather  doubtfuUy, 
thinkiftg  how  differently  the  lives  of  Eric  and  Terry  are  or- 
dered.  But  she  will  not  throw  cold  water  on  his  enthusi- 
asm.  It  is  ,beautiful  in  its  belief  and  simplicity,  «his 
worship  of  Lady  Dynely  in  a  world  where  gratitude  is  the 
exception,  not  the  rule. 

"But  why  did  she^do  it?      And  what  claim  hâve  you 
■  really  upon  her  ?  "  she  asks. 

Hère  Terry  is  "fkr  wide"  again.  His  father  was  some 
sort  of  relation  of  the  late  Lord  Dynely,  that  much  her 
ladyship  told  the  Vicar  of  Starling,  and  that  meagre  scrap  is 
ail  Mr.  Dennison  knows  of  hiniself  or  his  history. 
•  "  Curious,"  France  says,  thoughtfuUy,  looking  at  hira. 
"  Lady  Dynely  is  the  last  to  adopt  a  ragged  child  through  a 
whim  and  do  for  him  as  she  has  done  for  Terry.  There  is 
something  on  the  cards  we  don't  see,  and  something  I  fancy 
not  quite  fair." 

So  ail  thought  of  going  down  into  Lincolnshire  and  mak- 
ing  the  eighth  Miss  Higgins  blessed  for  life,  was  given  up  by 
Mr.  Dennison  for  the  présent,  and  he  resumed  his  ♦♦  fetch  and 
carry"  duties  as  France  called  them,  and  dutifully  escQrted 
his  two  lady  friends  everywhere.  Even  down  to  the  Bromp- 
ton  studio,  which  bored  him  most  of  ail,  for  he  didn't  care 
fpr  pictures,  and  Mr.  Locksley — a  good  fellow  enough— was 
monopolized  by  the  ladies  and  had  no  time  to  attend  to  him. 
The  bright  brief  season — for  Parliamént  closed  early  that 
yearv- was  at  its  end,  ail  the  world  of  western  Ix>ndon  were 
tuming  their  thougHts  countryward,  the  last  sitting  for  Lady 
Dynel/s  fwitrait  was  to  be  given.  While  she  sat,  Miss  For- 
rester prowled  about  as  usual  among  the  pictures,  and  lo  ! 
brought  one  to  light  that  was  a  révélation. 
— §^e  had  seea^m.  att  ag^  jmé  a£^tt&^  ^&nCiffiadtw^ 


Mt- 


'#.- 


•■,^^* 


l?i 


]  t 


Jik^"*' 


LJf>F£   TOOK  UP  THE  GLASS  OP  TIJUÉ.        127 

winter  scène  for  the  Marquis,  a  view  from  theheights  of  Que-' 
bec,  with  thenver  a  glistening  ribbon  of  frozen  silver-white 
and  the  ice  cone  of  Montmorency  Falls  piercing  the  vivid 
blue  sky-the  ghmpses   of  green   Virginian  forests.  '  p?c 
turesque  negro  quarters,  rich  sketche»  of  northern  autûranal 
forests  ail  gorgeous  splashes  of  ruby-red  niaple  and  orange 
hemlock,  and  an  on  a  glimp.se  of  Indian  life,  dusky  whitc- 
veiled  Arabs,  and  dreary  sketches  of  sandy  phini       The 
companion  picture  for  Madame  Felicia  was  not^  yet  begun 
And  thus  it  was  that  suddenly  France  came  npon  her 
treasure-trove.        ,  ^ 

It  was  hidden  from  vieve  in  a  dusky  corner  covered  by 
half  a  dozen  larger  canvasses— a  iittle  thing,  raerely  a  sketch 

r"î^''™-S'';V"''^^'^  ^^"^'  r'^  ^««^derful  gr^atbn  of 
light  and  shade.     This  is  what  sbe  sa«r  •  ^  ^ 

h.w  oW-fashioned  garden  ;  a  tjingled  mass  of  roses  and 

^nnn  °?H  ^"^^  ^«"^y?"^»'!^,  >  ^  "ight  sky.  Ht  by  a  faint.  new 

moon  ;  the  d.m  outlme  of  a  stately  mansiori  rising  m  the 

background  over  the  black  tree^;  'a  girl  in  a  whit^e  dress! 

fjj    \  "J''^^^^  ^°  ^^^  "'Sht  sky.     In  the  dira  distance,  à 

darker  shadfl^  among  the  shadows,  his  face  entirely  obscured 

i^l^fl   figure  of  aman  stands  unseen,  watching.     The 

face  of. the  girl  is  France's  own.     The  blood  rushed  tô  hev 

fo  ehead  as  she  looked,  with  a  shock,  she  could  hardly  hâve 

old-whether  of  anger  or  joy.      She  tmderstood  the  pic! 

^re  m  a  moment  and  m  that  moment  understood  herself. 

The  figure  m  the  background  was  >i^-and  he  was  biddini^ 

her  a  last  farewell.     That  look  of  passionate  Ipve,  of  pal 

sionate    despair-how  dared    he!      With   the   crimson^of 

conscious  guilt  still  red  m  her  cheeks,  her  eyes  flashed.     Did 

he  suspect  what  until  this  moment  sheliad  never  suspected 

her.     Did   he   suspect-did  he  dare  suspect  that  she  had 
stooped  to  care  for  him  unsought?  ' 

Yes,  stooped  !     Was  he  not  c^nameless,  struggline  artisL 

stonnld'^'  Tt''  ""^'^^  ^^''^^    ^°^  she-andfgeXnce 
stopped  and  knew  m  her  mmost  soûl  that  though  he  were  a. 

,^gaii,he«aï  theâftfcfflaa  of  aU  nwn  born tebc  ber  ma^ 


':^- 


1< 


^?' 


■f-r 


-/: 


*****■» 


128       LOr£  TOOX-  UP  TffB  GLASS  OF  TIME.  ^ 

"■  Sodow  we  in!,  Md  yet  m  Un  ipirt  , 

So  do»  I  feel  yom  breath  upSTmV  dœk- 
.  Sodose,  ,hai  „hai  I  hear  yooT  ,oic  I  im 

lift^gi»  tr^"-,'  iii^r^r^  "iF.'T'''^''"'-^»^*™ 

^■' Mis,  Fo^est^  I    I  dia  „o.  mean  thaf  yo»  *ould  «e 

V  allTe 'rr "'S>7r^r'r'''K?  r  ?' "-'""S  «en  i,, 
patrons  isthSf"'^  "^  *='  "^""d»  «f  Mr.  LocWe/â 

\I.  U  b„.  an  insean,^  woA"S'&1?triïirZ,C 
„-Ngong,matb««tae/- France  said,^^^^^^  


f 


.1.  .A.. 


;UWV«'>*"»*'' «■•      "'    '^    '■'SV-^  .*  '.,      **^ 


^-ii'Fj 


f  '  s. 


! 


■«  ^'"^.7'>'-i  *g/>5  ^^»f' 


^\^pys\rOOJ!r  (/P  THE  GLASS  OF  TIME.       \.g 

iiarve  such  vivid  «maginations  "  artists 

face.  g'eai»  of  sunshine  after  a  swrm  lîghted  her 

«No  one  ever  says  impossible  to  Lady  Dynelv"  she  oaM 

otherssee?^e%nt!.vis"'tel^''i%:rrf^^^^^^ 
poss.b.hty  ever  ^ear  such  a  loS  as  îhat     You  sÏÏl  ^  "? 
my  picture  not  ohce,  but  twce--once  for  T  ^?n        ^^'"i 
once  foradear  old  ladv  rRom^SL       »    ^- ^^î"^^^  ^"'l 
rubies-Grandmrmma  Carîr^        ^^°  '"^  P"^«  ''  "^^^  ~ 
^j^  He  looked  up.  a  faint  flush  under  the  golden  tan  of  his   . 

"Youmeahthat?"heasked.  ■ 

ûs  dotr^o^D^net"  ''''  ^''""  "^'^  ^"'  ^"^  "^^  ^°«o- 
"I  shall  take  it  as  a  favor,"  chîmed  in  Lady  Dvnelv 

^Jo,i  are  both  .eiygood."  he  says,  quLly.^   "i  ^ 


\:^-  .-'1 

~:^. 


l 

• 

-      . 

^4« 

' 

- 

A               •                                                                                           • 

' 

1 

■0' , 

É  ■-• 

1         V 

, 

.  •  s« 

^ 

\j-s 

1   ) . 

-t-fâ 

i^^4ff^'-' ''' 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Il 


THE  LORD  OF  TUS  LAUD. 


»» 


f 


-■*>; 


lALKING  up  and  down  the  pier  of  Saint-Jean- 
sur-Mer,  on  the  Brittany  coast,  uader  the  broiling 
sea-side  sun,  waiting  for  the  English  packet  an- 
chored  out  in  the  roads,  is  a  young  English  gentle- 
man. The  July  sky  i^  blazing  blindingly  hère  by  the  sea  ; 
the  heat  quivers  like  a  white  mist  over  the  water;  not  a 
breath  of  air  stirs  the  chestnuts  or  labiirnums,  and  the 
streets  of  Sairit-Jean  lie  ail  baked  and  white  in  the  pitiless, 
brassy  glare  of  that  fiçrce  midsummer  sun. 

But  in  ail  this  tropical  dazzle  and  heat  the  young  English- 
man  saunters  up  and  down,  and  looks  cool  and  la'nguid 
stilL  His  summer  suit  of  palest  gray  is  the  perfection  of 
taste;  his  boots,  his  gloves,  perfection  also;  and  the  hand- 
kerchief  which  he  flirts  once  or  twice  across  his  face  is  of 
finest  cambric,  etnbroidered  with  a  coroneé  and  nionogran^, 
and  perfuraed  with  attar  of  violets.  He  is  tall  and  very 
blonde,  as  shapely  as  a  woman,  broad-shouldered,  slender- 
waisted,  long-limbed,  and  very  handsome.  His  coniplexion 
is  délicate  as  a  girl's  ;  for  such  blue  eyes  and  blonde  curls 
many  a  fair  one  niight  si^h  with  envy  ;  very  handsome,  very 
effeminate.  He  has  a  little  golden  mustache,  waxed  into 
minute  points  ;  a  straw  hat  is  thrown  carelessly  on  his  fair 
hair.  He  is  the  most  beautiful,  the  most  noble,  the  most 
perfect  of  ail  mep,  in  one  woman's  eyes  at  least.  He  is 
Eih,  Lord  Viscount  Dynely.  He  walks  up  and  down,  and 
waits  for  the  boat  which  is  to  convey  him  across  the  chan- 
nel,  to  his  home  and  the  lady  he  is  to  marry.  But  he  is  in 
no  hqt  haste  about  it  ;  he  has  put  oflf  the  evil  day  as  long 
as  pojàible. 
F^ce  Forrester  is  a  pretty  girl,  an  élégant  girl,  a  dever 


1 

s 
h 
b 
c 


■^.,^ . 


J-  ■/ 


•sgff^'AxA.i. A.  ^.u^t  -)  - 


>;  t.\   \ie    '-'* 


■  ».  > 


'J     « 


;ii:: 


^t    ".^--v'f;A^,-5i>rtj,^«^' 


"  ^-«e  ZOiPZ?  Ofi  THE  LAND» 


a  suspicion  of  blûe  in  f hf  f  ' ,  -  *^''''"  <^'ever  wonien  • 
charm  of  the  d^mfes  Vo.  anT'^M^'  ^°"'^  outweigh  tïé 
settled  thing  among  S  polers  th^K  °"  !f '*'^-  ^ti»  it  is  a 
Peçts  it,  no  doubt  f  and  kTs  lesî  «r  ï  h  ^""^  P^^""  ^'•■^"<=«  e^' 
yield  gracefuUy,  and  Tac  fice  h  ™-I?  ^°v  °"  ''"'^  ^^°'^'  *<> 

And,  besides,  as  a  w  fe  h!  rS'  a^  T^^  *  ^"«^  about  it 

te4V&Lta's^heTe;^s&  "  «a  ,uar. 

he  draws  froni  his  niket  ^nH^  ^^^f  i«^"  jewelled  rep^ater 

half-past.  Sharp,  and  n™w  it  i^  '  ^^e  prom.sed  to  be  hère  at 

good  health,  good  t^te  and  fin  **•  ^°™^  ^'■°"  yo"tb 
Dynely's  last  Airtee,  me^îa  Satî  t'^'T»  ^^^  »  ^ord 
nnniites  she  had  witT-d  hl  f/'"^-Jefn  bail,  where  in  ten 
affections.     He  had  iol  fX^'^^™  his  ficLfe 

oiterings.  with  the  intemL  of  rrn^^*"'     "^^  ^"  ^P^^'^h 
lo  !  a  fortnight  had  passed  «nH  .  °*^  ''''^''  ^*  «»«,  and 

vivacious  F^nch  tonï^e  h,3  hdd  Z"^  '^'""^  ^^^^  *"d  ^ 
since.  The  two  weeS  pSo„  Ll  J'""  «n  rose  chains  ever 
he  was  going,  and  madaSTe  S  promfsXÎ^'^r  ">  ^^^ 
bid  him  adieu  on  the  pier  Wh  JT  lu  '^ '"P  ^^'^  and 
creed  to  become  France  Forr-  ?  J?  T\  *^^  gentleman  de- 

The  fifteen  .nfnSpass   Xv'^'ii^^'^  ^"^  ™^'«-- 
-th  his  tall,  fair  he:^&dev?tif  ^JS  ïf^îî^^r^'  ^* 
bluc  eyes  speaking  whole  encycSL  J?   '  5».  éloquent 
tion.     He  is  one  of  those  men^h!?      /*^  ^y^àyxxi^,  AevK>. 

8>  «na  cnrow  themselves  mto  the  moment'» 


-«>.' 


>> 


i.j4«'jlrt>*v  . 


.M;" 


^ï" 


t?,' 


<  i'  :•' 


<  a"  •• 


ii-r»»-     "•'■(!--„ 


13» 


"  TItE  ZORÏ>  OP  THB  LAND. 


»» 


Wle  With  ail  thé  dcpth  that  is  în  tKeno.  One  of  those  me*» 
bom  to  be  worshipped  hf  women,  and  to  make  cheni  suffer 
mercilessly  ât  his  hands.  Not  rdbitstly  bad  in  an/  wày, 
but  siniply  without  an  ounce  of  ballast,  in  hin^  bôdy  or 
soûl.  "; 

Eleven  strikes  froni  àll  the  clocks  of  Sain î-Je^n- sur-Mer— 
ihe  fatal  hpur  bas  corne.  There  are  tears  ip  mtalânîe's  black, 
doll-like  eyes  as  she  whispers  adieu  ;  beau^Ç«^  pale,  sadl 
and  tender  Lord  Eriic  looks.  He  wavA  the  perfunied 
coronetéd  hàndkerchief  from  the  upper  deck>^^a§  long  as  f  he 
is  in  sight,  still  ihournful  and  pale  to  look  upon  despite  the 
height  of  the  thernionieter.  Then  he  laughs,  puts  the  hànd- 
kerchief in  his  pocket,  lights  a  rose-scented  cigarette,  sélects 
a  shady  spot  on  deck,«orders  his  valet  to  fetch  him  that  làst 
novel  of  George  Sârid,'and  m  five  minutes  bas  as.  completely 
forgolten  the  Woman  he  has  lef^^i^^the  girl  he  is  going  to. 

He  reàches  Lobdon.  Itis  ifresert,  of  course.  Every- 
body  has  gone.  Sorae  three  million  are  left,  but  they  don'jt 
count  Hé  looks  in  weary  disgust  at  the  empty,  sun-scorched 
West  End  streeés,^  at  the  bleached  parks,  the  forsaken 
Ladierf  Mile,  and  goes  down  iat  once  to  Devonsbire.  And 
in  thy  cool  of  aperfect  suramer  evening  he  reaches  the  Vil- 
lage station,  and  as  he  is  not  expected,  is  driven  in  a  fly,  like 
an  ordinary  mortal,  to  the  Abbey  gâtes.  There  is  a  garden 
party  of  sônïe  kind,  he  sees,  as  he  stroUâ  languidly  up  to  the 
hoùse.  Thiâ  gentleman,  who  has  not  attained  his  raajorily, 
has  a  certain  weary  and  Worn-out  air,  as  though  life  were  a 
very  old  Story  indeed,  ànd  rather  a  tiresome  mistake — the 
"nqthîng  new,  ând  ûothing  truerand  it  don't  signify  "  man- 
:ùer  to  perfection. 

It  is  a  mpst  exquisite  evening.  Overhead  there  is  a  sky 
'  like  Italy,  golden-gray  in  the  shado#,  primrose  and  pink  in 
Âelight,  a  fufl  moon  rising  over  the  tree-tops,  a  few  bri^ht 
stars  winking  fàcetîously  down  at  grini  old  earth,  a  fainç 
breeze  just  Stirrihg  the  roses,  and  clematis,  and  jessa- 
mine,  and  honeysuckle,  ànd  Wàfting  abroadsiibtle  incense, 
ànd  thè  nightingâles  piping  their  musical,  plaintive  vespet 
song.    It  is  unutterably  beautiful,  but  to  alUts  beauty  Lord 


song.    It  is  unutterably  tjeautitui.  Dut  to  aii  its  peauty  x^orq 
"^My  is  aëàîïna  lÉ&a.    It  bas  Mèaà 


^«** 


X 


V, 


»1 


b 
I 
I 


r 

« 

ti 


•feiî' 


.■^« 


'sf  V  itf' i^ipi,^i%i/«j 


""*'*^-^;s»e.«. 


V. 


V 


^' 


^V  -rr  .■,-;••   î-,       "<!  -Sk-Î^ 


"  r/Kff  Loxi>  Oit  TÉtE  land:* 


«33 


►5' 


;,^ 


JW  he  kùon^  u  13  rather  cooler  now,  that  is  ail.  What  he 
does  see  is  a  grÇmp  of  fair  English  girlsj  in  robes  of  white, 
and  pink,  and  pale  green,  playing  croquet  undçr  the  beeches. 
and  his  tired  eyes  light^^little  at  the  àight.  Vgtierever  and 
whenever  Lord  Dynelymarlightupon  a  preft)^:pC  orgroup 
of  theni,  ail  his  eartKly  trouble^  yanish  at  ohce.  Ifwas  a 
weakness,  inany  cynical  friands  àaid,  inhêritêd  honestly 
enough  froin  his  late  noble  father. 

The  group  clicking  the  croquet  balls  did  not  seë  him,  but 
fif  \c^  "^""r'  *  ^"^"f  standing  on  the  terrace,gazing 
thoughtfuUy  at  the  twilight  shadow»,  did,  and  theré  was  \ 
quick  start,  a  quick  uprising,  and  a  rush  to  taeet  him,  a 
glad,  joyful  cry:  ,  •'       ' 

" Oh,  Eric  I  «ly  son  !  my  son  !" 

He  perniitted  her  embracé  rather  than  returned  it.     It 
was  too  warm  for  powerful  domestic  émotions  ofany  sort»  . 
Jiric  thouffht,  and  then  women  always  went  in  for  kissing  ' 
and  raptiHes  upon  the  smallest  provocation.     He  let'himself 
be  embraced,  and  then  gently  extsicated  hiraself,  andglanced  " 
backward  at  the  group.  *   ' 

^i,"'^^??"^*  party,  motherl"    he  sail     «Do  I   know  - 
them?    Ah,  yes,  I  see  the  Deveres  and  the  Dorman  cirls? 
•IsPrance—?     Howis  France?    She is  not  among  them? "  " 

i^rance  is  somewhere  in  the  grouftds.   Oh,  my  boy  !  hoW 
good  it  seenis  to  hâve  you  at  home  again— how  anxiously\ 
bave  awaited  your  coming.     We  expected  you  in  Londôn  atS 
the  begmninç  of  the  season." 

'•  We  ?  "  his  lordship  sayS,  interrogatively. 

"France  and  1.  Do  you  know,  Eric,  that  France  has 
been  the  sensation  of  the  season,  the  most  adraired  girl  in 
London.  Lord.  Evergoil  proposed,  and  was  rejected  ;  but. 
Enc,  you  ran  a  great  risk." 

"pidl?    Oflosing  Miss  Forrester?    I  could  hâve  sur- 
•  vived  rt,"  he  answers,  coolly. 

"  Don't  say  that,  Eric— you  don't  mean  it,  I  know,"  Lady 

Dynely  says,  with  a  sinçularly  nervous,  fdghtened  look. 

You  cannot  do  better— it  is  impossible.    She  is  of  one  of 

.he  olde.stfamilies  in  the  kingdom  ;  shtfis  handsome,  accom. 

TJiBlicd,  and  Tasanatirig,  abd  die  caoM  îhto  two  fortunes» 


^    ' 


^^Ld^Ê^^^L,*^ 


^^;2^i^/ïv, 


^>. 


V 


i 


c 


134 


"!»»  Z0«Z>  OF  THB  LAl/D» 


..  her  own  «nd  Mrs.  Çaryll's.  Eric,  I  shaU  break  hiy  héart  jf 
you  do  not.marry  her."  '  <         ^  . 

"  Hearts  don't  break,  dear  Uiother— physicians  hâve  di* 

.  covered  that  ;  it  is  an  explodcd  delusion.  And  as  to  Misi 
J-orrester-s  acconîpUsl>raqnts  and  fascinations,  do  you  know 
I  rather  find  that  sort  of  young  person  hang  heavy  on  hand 
•-l^prefer  people  of  less  superhuraan  acquirements.  For 
the  fortune— we  1,  I  may  not  be  a  Marquis  of  Westminster, 
but  the  rent  roU  ra.a  noble  one,  and  its  lord  need  never  sell 
himselfi" 

Lady  Dynely  has  turned  quite  white— a  dead,,  gray  pallor 
—as  she  hstens.  Is  he  going  to  throw  over  France  and 
her  fortune  after  ail?  ,  Must  she  tell  him  the  truth  in  order 
to  make  hini  speak  ?  Before  she  can  tum  to  him  àgaiiî,  he 
speaks,  more  cheerfully  this  time. 

V  7'™.!  epough  for  ail  that,"  he  says  ;  "  don't  look  so  mie 
and  ternfied,  mother  miné,  One  would  think  I  were  a  pau- 
per,  reduced  to  heiress-hunting  or  starvation.  Where  is 
France  ?  I  will  go  in  search  of  her,  and  pay  my  respects  " 
L  kl  '^^"^  "  ^^^  ^'""^  ""^^^  ^^isin  hour  ago  with  Mr. 
"  Mr.  Locksley  ?  A  new  name.  Who  is  Ut.  ipbcksley  ?  " 
Mr.  Locksley  is  an  artist  ;  he  is  paintingjPfence's  pdr- 
trait  He  made  a  hit  at  ths.Acadeujju*ffryear,  and  I  pre- 
vailed  upon  him  to  corne  with  us  down  beré." 

"  Oh,  y(îu  did  I'  And  he  is  received  enfamme,  I  suppose, 
and  France  takes  solitary  stroUs  with  him,  does  she?"  re' 
sponds  Eric,  lifting  his  eyebrows.  "  It  seems  to  me,  my  good 
mother,  you  don't  look  after  your  only  son's  interests  «>  verv 
sharply  after  alk  The  lime  >^alk,  did  you  say?  I  will  go 
and  flush  this  covey  at  once." 

He  turns  away.  His  mother  stands  where  he  has  left  her 
and  watclies  the  tall,  siender  figure,  the  slow,  graceful  walk. 
He  grows  handsomer  every  year,"  she  thinks,  in  her  love 
and  admiration  «  Go  where  I  will  I  see  nothing  like  him. 
Oh,  xay  boyl  if  you  only  knew  that  you  may  be  a  very 
pauper  indsed.  That  on  the  mercy  k  Tcriy  Dennisoi 
your  whole  fortune  may  hang.  If  l  could  only  summon 
^""^  ^^  ^°^  ^  this  déception,  and  secrery^^nd  s„^_ 


't 


\ 


•aW'»  z  4 


tït  .~'. 


•■:#f 


':^jiiJk 


j^iij' 


^  ■« 


lg#^. 


-:^§"'-r',vT4t' 


>f 


A 


'V 


.~,''-M4^ 


'■-V.-**"'..'/,^' 


-  TBE  LORD  OF  TUE  LAND» 


t- 


pcnsjatonce.  Terry  is  so  good,  so  generous,  he  loves  me 
80  ;  he  IS  fonder  of  Eric  than  any  brofhcr  ;  he  wouW  mXî 
d  e  than  g.ve  pe  pain.    That  is  n,y  only  hôpe.     îf  the  £ 

sLif^gt^ro?:  ?:sX?^"  *^^  ^"^--•^'  »-  -^" 

grâce  and  élégant  languqr  wanting,  only  manly  stremrth  and 

n  omei'î  ^  '^'    ^^  ^^^P^augh  co.nes\o  K  tïe 
moment,  clear  apd  merry  as  ahy  school-boys. 

Terry  vnllbav^  mer<gr,"  she  thinks;  «he  is  the  soûl  of 

Llr^   Jl       ?'^  commission,  his  five  hundred  a  year,  and  the 

rll     n"^-,rK^''  he  returns  from  Lincolnshire,  and  J  kno^ 
I  feel,  ail  will  be  well.    And  yet,"— her  eves  went  wi,S 

"rïace^if"  ^"^T^  °'.Pf  ^  ^"^  woo'd  J"  a^d^gllif aS 
S  of  ?h7^"-«*^^«"  »«d  fountains,  ail  silvered  in  the  radi- 
ïre  nnî  1     '""""•^'  moon_"it  is  agréât  8acrifice~a  s^ri-. 
lice  not  one  man  m  a  hundred  woùld  make." 
^  Meantmie  Lord  Dynely  had  strolled  down  the  lîme  walk "'' 
and  emerged  Upon   a  sylvan    nook,  cômmandinr  a  vte» 
reaâ'^'\r?ar"'th''  distant  shining  sea.  "iSlft  ^l^^ 
reached  the  ear— the  moon  left  a  track  of  radiance  as  it 

sS!p  saT:    '  '"'"'  ''^*     ^°'  *'^  '^  ^«^«^  P'^^^S  11  . 

«li?.  Î^K**'"?,  °^  gauzy  white,   Miss   Forrester  sat  in  a 
rûstic  chair,  blue  nbbons  floating,  trailing  roses  in  the  rirh 
î>rownness  of  her  hair  agréât  bu^ch  of  ifliS  of  The  îaSeï    ^ 
m  her   ap,  another  cluster  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress.     Her 
coquettish  «  Dolly  Varden"  hat  lajr  on  the  gSss  SSïde  her 

ïv  andTa.r^.S'^'^'  f"ll  of  dreJmy  ligh^^-thTshinrng 
VJJ      Sfa»  .and  the  man  who  lay  on  the  sward  at  her  feet 


Ai^Jo*ejrw(^jTbe_brief  ni^ 


fi  Kvd,  and  bàbblë,  ao^  ^^S} 


n8MS= 


t- 


.^. 


Al^ÔiÉ^i^^ 


-vw 


•r  "■;^»w.»,* 


'\ 


#. 


tp=^ 


For  one  who  wUl  never  be  thr*.  ^ 

But  mine,  bat  rainer    So  I  «wear  to  the rose. 

'f 

I  ...... 

lows,  with  their  I?ng  ha°?  Lnd  D.Vttï,   '  those  painting  fel- 
blouses,  always  piaf  A^'m^if  f    "?"*  ^^^^'  *"<^  ^elvet 

to  think  one   of   the  pSudLt  t^<f  k  '7'"''°™  ^^  "«^^ 

flirtation  wa's  a  &rr,e'Ko^"e?^^ar,^^^^^^^^ 

herself  very  well  at  home,  it  seemed  wK,!    u     *^"'*'  *™"5é 

self  abroad.  '      ^^^^^^^  ^hile  he  amused  hirn- 

"  Taking  people  by  surprise  i§  a  mistake  T  ««H  »  k       -^ 
advancing.     «•  if  i  don't  dUfrnrh  f,,'""^*'^^'  ^  ûm.    h«  said; 

ter.  perhaps  you  ^11 C  Cnd  «„^  ^''^'^'"^I'  ^^'  ^''''^'- 

pleasure  came  into  his  cvesJhe  ^J^a  T^^  ^^^  °^  «"«a» 
Lodtslex  smiled. 


^^Tt 


>-'  ^ 


-.--,•  '  -~ 


|^>rfC¥f 


f^' 


*' THE  LORD  O^  HH^agf^^ffjyn  ^^^ 

would  remember  ?    t7o  vearl  is  a  ro^^  ^h"""  ï?"'4^telj  he 
«PirniVoi  o»  .       /^o  yfars  is  a  considerab  e  time." 

the  same."       ^  °  '"^  P''"""  ">  "«tyou  hère  ail 

wJ3','îhel'„T''ir„lf  ^.  »■>?■»•?">«.  -alked  back  .o- 

-me  e»,ÎL5S"#„ût  ShVndtsZL  "' 
shimng  -with  pleasure  '     '  "onest  eyes 

hidalgo  oJt  thrrrhrd%otS^,!~  ^'*"«^',  '°."^  °'^  Spanish 
fifth  fib  in  some  dik^tief"^  T"-  T^^''  »»»« 

with  delight  "  ^"^  '"'^'■'  »^  beside  herseU 

hand  express  tie  émotions  o?  tVe  Vv^^X'^^^r^^^^ 
are^tnpp^ng  the  «ght  fantastic  in.therell^hXwc^oiJ: 
They  enter 


i 


,^r 


■'    .V 


v/<.< 


'  m 


^T>A 


kj,     •,    -*— tr-'y»"»?" 


■•         t. 
t 

-     J*  • 


I 


138 


"7»£  ZÔ^Z)  O^  7WK  LAATD/* 


his  présence  makes  itself  felt  directly.  He  is  in  excellent 
spirits — thruws  off  his  languor,  forgets  to  be  blasé,  and 
waltzes  like  a  student  at  Mabille. 

France  déclines  ;  it  is  too  warm,  she  says  ;  she  will  re- 
lieye  Lady  Dynely,  and  play,  Mr.  Locksley  rtakes  his 
adieux  speedily  and  départs. 

'*  How  hâve  you  corne  to  pick  up  Locksley,  France .'  " 
Eric  asks,  later  on. 

"Pickhimup?  I  don't  quite  understand.  He  painted 
the  picture  of  the  year,  sold  it  for  a  fabulous  sum,  was  over- 
flowing  with  Orders,  and,  as  a  spécial  favor  to  Lady  Dynely, 
consented  to  throw;  over'everything  else,  foUow  us  down 
hère  and  paint  my  portrait." 

She  speaks  with  a  certain  air  of  constraint,  which  Lord 
Dynely  does  not  fail  to  notice. 

"Ah,  very  kind  of  hitn,  of  course.  Very  fine  fel^w, 
Locksley,  and  very  clever  artist,  but  a  sort  of  reserve  about 
him,  a  sort  of  niystery,  something  on  his  mind  and  ail  that. 
One  of  the  sort  of  men  who  hâve  an  obnoxious  wife  hidden 
away  in  some  quarter  of  the  globe,  like  Warrington  and 
Rochester  in  the  novels.  I  must  see  the  portrait — is  it  a 
good  one?" 

"  Very  good,  I  believe— I  hâve  given  but  two  or  three 
sittings  as  yet." 

"  How  long  has  he  been  hère?" 

"Afortnight." 

A  pause.  He  looks  at  her  as  he  leans  over  the  back  of 
her  chair.  She  is  slightly  pale  still,  rather  grave,  but  very 
handsome— 2/^ry  handsome.  She  has  improved,  Eric  thinks, 
complacently,  and  dark  beauties  are  his  style,  naturâUy.  A 
-very  crédible  wife,  he  thinks  ;  a  fine,  high-bred  face  to  see  at 
one's  table  ;  and  if  there  be  a  trifle  more  braîns  thah  one 
could  wish,  one  can  excuse  that  in  a  wife. 
.  "  I  must  get  Locksley  to  make  me  a  daplicate,"  he  says, 
bending  over  her,  and  putting  on  his  tender  look.  "  France, 
ytfh  hâve  not  said  you  are  glad  to  see  me  yet." 

"  Is  it  necessary  to  repeat  that  formula  ?  "  she  answ«rs, 
_rarclftfj!s]j,     "That  is  takên  forgranted,  isit  not?" 


t"*o  i""^»  t. 


"Twas  detained  at  Saint  Jean,"  he  goes  on.     *<  ï  bave 


>'•/  'J- 

'  '  -î  :»!:  -  -    ,;  !"/'^\  ^Jf^Â.-Aïf^:^'''^   ' 

r  ^'1 

*1l.  > 

1  f 

r 


-W^"  '^ 


"  THE  LORD  OF  THE  LAND» 


139 


"Yes,  I  can  imagine,"  France  answers,  and  suddenly  ail 

face.     "  I  can  imagine  the  burning  itiipetuosity,  the  fever  ôf 
longmgwuh  whichyou  rushed  acToss  thè  PyLees  across 
France  and  home     Eric,  that  sort  of  thing  SLTdo  ve' 
weli  m  Spam,  but  don't  tiy  it  with  me  "  ^ 

"  Merciless  as  everi  Your  London  season  bas  agreed  with 
you,  France.  I  never  s^w  you  look  so  welI.  AnTthe  feme 
Of  your  conquests  bave  reached  even  the  other  side  of  the 
Pyrénées.  Ho«r  others  siew  their  thousands  and  Miss  For! 
rester  her  tens  of  tbDusands.     How  men  went  down  befoie 

f.  t'^l^'^^  f.'^"';^'  "'^^  ^o^n  before  the  re#er." 
.     My  dear  Enç,"  Miss  Forrester  replies,  polilely  shruir. 
gingwuh  a  yawn,  "don't  you  find  it  feti^i^g  ^  talk  s1> 

Teâbes.  Bufir"  '  'f'""^  °'  yours^to^make  long 
speeches.  But  I  suppose  two  years'  hard  practice  of  the 
language  of  compliments  must  telL"  ^'"'-"ce  01  the 

"Corne  out  on  the  terrace,"  is  what  he  says,  and  in  soitc 
of  berfejnt  résistance  he  leads  her  there.  He  is  «oK 
more  and  more  charmed  eve^r  moment-not  deepfyriove^ 

iate?n"'°^''ï'"""^e"^  prett^ace.  HeisasKS 
nated  now  as  he  was  by  madame  last  week  as  he  may  bTbv 
any  one  else  you  please  next,  and  thoroùghly  in  eSiS  at 
the  moment.  Why  should  he  delay  ?  Whf  no  co^to  the 
Z^n^En-gL^d  ^^^"^'   ^^--  -"^^  ^^  -^^^ 

^T?;tr^^'^^^^  ^'•^«^^"^^  ^here  they^tTd.     '  ^""'^  .^'^'^ 
«  V    l  Z'"*"'^  ^'8^''  "  ^'^a^  a  Perfect  night  !  »         A" 

to  the  sky  ;  "  veiy  neat  thmg  in  the  way  of  moonshine  And 
nioonhght  hours  were  made  for  love  and  ail  that  L  mS 
says  so,  doesn't  he,  France  ?  »  *         P^* 


^M 


'!?j 


.,î-  ,  i 


*'  Ah,  France,  you  mày  laugh  at  me — ** 


■JLb.  ..?* 


140 


"ttÔff  £OitZ*  OJ^  t^É  LAND*» 


•,- 


^t-i»^ 


_  I  am  not  laughing  ;  I  néver  felt  less  facetious  in  my  life. 
My  prin<:ipal  feeling,  at  présent,  is  that  it  Js  half-past  eleven, 
that  I  am  tired  aftertwo  hours*  croquet,  and  that  I  should-^ 
and  will  say  good-night,  and  go  to  bed." 

"Not  just  yet."     He  takes  her  hand  and  holds  it  fast. 

What  a  pretty  hand  you   hâve,"  he  says,  tenderly;  "a 

model  for  a  sculptor.     Will  you  let  me  put  an  engagement 

.ring  among  ail   those  rubies  and  diamonds,  Frînëe?    I 

J^'t^y^mt^^^-^'^  ^""^'  ^°"  ^^'".-^-'  -^  y- 

^^France  laughs,  and  looks  at  him,  aJd  draws  away  her 

'      '     "'  •        ' 

**There  came  a  laddie  hère  to  woo. 

And,  dear,  but  he  was  jimp  and  gat; 
He  stole  the  lassie's  heart  away. 
And  made  it  ail  his  ain.  Oh.  " 

h«7°V^?'"'?  *°'^"°  *™^'  1'°''^  ^^"ely.  Really  the 
haste  and  ardorofyourjove-making  takes  one's  breath  away 
J^Jt^ll  ""^1"°^  tl^a»  I  know  what  to  do  with-another 
WDuld  be  the  embarrassment  of  riches.  Eric,  let  us  end  this 
force.  You  don't  care  a  straw  for  me.  You  don't  want  to 
mairy  me  any  more  than  I  want  to  marry  you.  Whvshould 
we  hore  each  otheç  wjth  love-mâking  that  means  nothing.  It 
wil  disappomt  twogood  women  a  little— but  that  is  inevi- 

.H„iî*     ^  '°  r"'  "?°^'^'''  "''^  *  ««««J  ^oy»  and  te»  hfer  she 
inust  make  up  her  mmd  to  another  daughter-in-law  " 

^^His  eyes  light-mpposition  always  détermines  himforright 

'•  I  will  never  tell  her  that.     I  love  you,  France-have 
loved  you  always— you  alone  shall  be  my  wife." 
"  Enc,  do  you  expert  me  to  believe*  that  ?  " 
"I   expect  you   t«  beliéve  the  truth.     And  if  after  ail 
hese  years-after  what  has  passed  betwéen  us,  you  mean 
to  thruw  me  over— "  ^ 

"  After  what  has  passed  betveen  us  I  "  she  repeats,  look- 
ing  at  him  full,  «I  don't  uhderstand  that,  Eric  U^at  has 
eyer  passed  between  us?" 


^Vuu  know  I  hâve  teved^lSïï— you  aiTûol  qui»  cast 


"  % 


Mm  m  ,1^, 


15- 


"  ^  '.  'f  ■*  "  -^/ 


«  f  mZn"  ?'f"  *°  ''^'^  "\^  ^°  '"^^^  ^  <^°'"P^ct  as  that?" 
do  not  Ele  X'tff'  ""'  ""  '^  "°^*  "'^^^^^^^^  'f  y°- 

hnM^"^?^'?^''"  '^^  ^^'  ""^ef  J»er  breath.     "You  will 
hold  Me  to  this  tacit  understanding_to  which  I  haVe  Lver 
been  a  party,  mind-whether  I  will  or  no  ?"       ^ 
,  He  only  repeats  : 

^i^°.!?nr';  ^y^"*'^'     I  ^ant  you  for  my  wîfe." 
Sfte  stands  lookmg  at  the  softly  luminous  night  at' the 
dark  trees  and  white  shadows,  her  face  >àle!  hef  ps  it 
her  eyes  darkly  troubled.  ^       ^ 

"tol«M  ""^f""— "  «  ungenerous,"  she  cries  out,  presentlv 
to  Hd  me  to  a  compact  to  which  l  hâve  never  cSnsented 
unk'nd  "°Yoa  do^'';'!^  dishonorable,  but,  Eric,  it  i^mos; 
unkmd.     Youdo«^/  love  me— ah,  hush— if  you  protested 
forever  I   would  not  believe  you.     I  know  vou   I  thJnl 

Slnt"treek';°"  ^T"^^  You  mTn  Ta't  Lis'mol 
S  th^  sort  of  wff°  f  '"'^  ^°'^^'  ""y  ""^'y  ^'^'^^^''^^e-  I  am 
taJtl  t?.  /  r^^f""  y°"— yo"  want  an  adoring  créature 
to  sit  at  your  feet  and  worship  you  as  a  god.  there  I  "she 
tprns  .mpatiently  away;  "let  me  alone^  I  can  gfve  ytu 
no  answer  to-mght.  The  dewis  falling  ;  let  us  go  in  I  h^te 
to  gyieve  Mrs.  Caryll,  I  hâte  to  dtsap^'iné  youfmot'her-îJr 

^  "  Fra3°'"''"'"  V^  ^"y  '^^'^  be,  I  doq't  care  a  whit" 
France,  you  are  heartless,"  he  says,  angrily. 

Fri    TS^T^y  t^^"-^  ï^^  '^"*'?-    Gi ve  me  upf  Let  me  go 
Eric— Il  Will  be  better  for  us  both  "  w»e  go, 

"  I  will  never  let  you  go,"  he  answers,  sullenly      «  If  vou 

throw  «,e  over,  well  and  good_I  must  submit-in^y  it  J^ilS 

be  hke  France  Forrester  to  play  fast  and  loose  with^any  maS" 

»V.71  ^^^"P°"  ^"»  i"  the  moonlight  their  ^ï^  fire 

«You  do  well  to  say  that,"  she  retorts.     «Yqu  of  S 

Z      A^Tu""^  *  ''^^i  ï  cannotanswer  to-night     If  a 


I  '1 


kiSKrlïS^Tr'  '"  '•"  **-^-'"'^  "'>'"r«' 


I ,. 


.  !^>f^« 


<#       ,  J 


2-: 


>    '- 


Fs     ' 


CHAPTER  VIL 
A  week's  rÉprieve. 

IISS  FORRESTER  goes  to  her  room  and  sits  at  the 
j;'^d?«^.  after  the  fashion  of  girls,  and  looks  out. 

I  She  had  ndver  taken  this  aflFair  of  the  proposed 
co,-^  /".lance  s«riously  for  a  moment  befbre.  She  had 
8a.d,  and  with  truth,  that  she  understood  Erié  better  than  he 
understood  Inmself.     Somewhere;  ih  his  wanderin^  Kit 

caodmf  hST  "P°\f  ^^  «yP^r.  girfish  face,  that  wouW 
captivate  his  susceptible,  romantic  heart— nô,  not  heart— 

sort  of  man  to  sneer  at  matnmony,  because  it  was  a  bynical, 
t  upon  the  shghtest  provocation.    To  be  "  oflF  with  the  old 

ër^ïricrfor  ^'^"^^•""  ^  "°"-'^  notic:^;^°j^ 

-laughed  J  hjs  love-making,  parodied  his  pretty  st^cS 

treated  him  much  as  she  treated  Terr/,  with  a  sort  of  fun.  " 
Jovinjr,elder-sistermanneri  only  she  had  a  real  respect  for 
Dennison  she  never  feit  for  Dynely.  ^ 

won?  to^lv''^"  v^^^i^  '"^'^  ^  nian  as  you,  Eric,"  she  was 

Jhan  i \T^'  *  7?"^*'*r^,.^  8''^*'  ^«^^  fairer  complexion 
than  I  hâve,  ând  I  don't  hke  doUy  men.  You  curl  your 
hawr;  you  wa:s  that  little  callow  mustache  o£  vours-  vou 

t^otrancTT'ï ,"''  "  ""'^'i  y^^  ^«'^  moreSutV^j; 
v^  L  "^  .?^°^  ^"""«^^  J'r^'"  "  **»  »  yo"n«  duchess;  and 
y^ihaven't  an  ounce  of  brains  in  yoji  from  ton  to  toe 

^î?  !L      ^**  ^^^^^^  "  is  this—that  the  mân  I  marry  ~ 
shall  be  a  manly  man  and  a  élever  lian.  -You,  my  po2r 


.V)^.^îî"\w«sv' 


uJa^ 


r  '  -i->      —   .11.11,  'ipi-wi— ^Twnjtmxm 


^    WEEK'S  REPRIEVE 

143 

™ai.  ''"°''  ""■''=^"  ?™  >""«".  «i"-  an  irrépressible 

'^\:^J^  izzTS^  ""« 

Never,  France— really  ?  " 

n»"^yrif^™r;^''i"îr,''  """•  ■«'"•  '  -"""W"''  • 

invZii  «he  SH*?X"Men2^"V??  '"  "^"^ 
weB  ever  to  love  vm.     ï„j  "'a-'naidenhood.    I  hke  yo»  too 

•■  Rel ly I "  ^c ;en^a«  11»^^° '°'l*' ""■"  ' ''^'' 

»s  to  be  a  king  among  men— "  *     "® 

Dyn^r  ^'"^  '^  "^  '■*'•*■*"■'    P"'»  i»  yonng  Lord 

"Wiihoutfearandwithoutreproach.    Yes.  eiac.1.    m». 

«ri;'ToU°:irt^i^?it«l%? 

strong  man,  a  brave  man,  a  her^»     ^^  ^''  ''^*'  '  ''«*  » 
î  ^  »"  Captain  Jinks,  of  th^  HoïBfr  Ma««^^^^™_ 


Sïsï^2iF^^K«t^ 


rï'a*^ 


-11," 


1r;û 


U"^ 


».'- 


r 


>« 


144 


-rf   WEEK'S  REPRIEVE. 


-i,,- 


;  "  A  man  I  can  look  up  to,  be  proud  of,  who  will  do  some« 
thing  in  the  wprid;  anything  but  a  handsoine  dandy  who 
parts  his  hafl-  in  the  middle,  who  wears  purple  and  fine  lineq, . 
and  whose  highest  aim  in  life  is  to  lie  at  young  ladies'  feet  ; 
and  drawl  out  jthjgi  eternal  passion  that  consumes  him — a 
gentleman  whose  loves  are  as  numerousas  the  stars,  and  not 
naïf  so  eternal."  . 

In  this  spirited  way  Miss  Forrester  had  been  used  X,o 
rebuff  her  would-be  lover,  and  did  sometimes  succeed  in 
piquing  Eric  into  deserting  her  in  disgust. 

A  young  lady^o  strong-minded  as  this  at  sixteen,  what 

was  she  likely  to  fll  ,at  twenty  ?    He  j)itied  her  for  her  lack  of 

taste— other  girls  went  down  before  those  blue  eyes  of  his, 

for  which  Miss  P'orrester  expressed  such  profound  contempt. 

It  had  never  really  meant  much  with  either  of  thera  until 

this  night  on  the  terrace.     And  this  night  on  thé  terrace 

Lord  Dynely  had  been  in  earnest  at  last. 

.     In  some  way  her  honor  was  bound — more  or  less,  while  she 

had  laughed  at  the  wished-for  alliance,  she  had  yet  accepted  il. 

Miss  Forrester  had  a  very  high  sensé  of  honor,  and  was  an  ex- 

ceedingly  proud  girl.    To  play  fast  or  loose  with  any  man,  as 

Eric  had  said,  was  utterly  impossible.     In  no  way  was  she  a 

coquette,     Men  had  admired  her,  had  fallen  in  loye  with  her, 

had  wanted  to  anarry  her  ;  but  the  mistake  had  been  of  their 

own  making  ;  she  had  never  led  thenak^n.     If,  indeed,  then, 

her  honor  and  truth  stood  compromised  hère,  she  must 

marry  Eric.     He  did  not  love  hei^/Aaf  she  knew  as  well 

now  as  she  had  known  it  always;  if  she  marriedliim,  she 

would  be  a  most  unhappy,  unloved  and  neglected  wife — 

that  she  aiso  knew.     And  yet  if  he  held  her  to  it,  if  Lady 

Dynçly  held  her  to  it,  if  Mrs.  Caryll  held  her  to  it,  what 

was  she  to  do  ?    To  grieve  those  that  loved  W  was  a  trial 

to  her  generous  nature,  and  she  was  of  the  âge  and  the  kind 

to  whoni  self^sacrifice,  self-abnegation,  look  great  and  glo- 

nous  things.    Yes,*  it  would  résolve  itself  into  this— if  Lord 

Dynely  held  her  to  their  compact,  she  must  marry  LokT 

pynely. 

^d-ihfltt  out  of  the  miat  of  tha  ninni^ligh»^  t^»  fa^ ,.  pf 


■*..: 


i, 


Tôcksley  arose,  Ihe  grave,  reproachful   eyes,  the  bioad, 


■# 


«bf!;;_5îi„-.^-,»> ';•>« ■.'ft.y  .■■u •   vj;vi- -.i<.'~--'V-^i4'^S.^*.^i«4''^fÀA!.s*s^sà|^     ,    \ 


WA 


-TiS&«î"^ 


A  WEEK'S  REPRIEVE 

'  '45 

bacuS:  ""  ""'""'^'  "»■="  "««i^   of  Eric   can.. 

wife  °Wd<^l  '^S^^m  "^  ""=  "■  oXnoxiou, 

.urnjdcold  aTSe"ho"gh..'°Wa:'.S^„''f„vfl?'""     -^^ 
anything    beyond    a    iValnnc   «T  .  f-  ^^yt'^'ng  m  it— 

day  of  his  life,  and  that  life  no  common^^^^^^^  ^7 

ner  tram  of   thoueht  brok<»  •    ckÏ      f         .'    ^"^  sighed  ; 

Word  and  actj  a  ^xiTXTT.r^J'f''^^^  ^^  "»  every 
honor  to  anv  man  in  Fnllo  S  **L^  *S^"'  ^^o  would  do 
at  St.  l^Z^TVl^tyàJ^^ir^^ 
and  HonitoS  lacL!aS3  how  alUhe  J.IT''..'''^""  ^'^^'^ 
envy  him.     In  his  love  m^t^nt  o    •    ™^  ^®  ''"«^  ^o"W 

become  hère  or  do  .^  g.^^  ^^i^^^.^^^^^^^^  ' 

"«tr^i«rat^,ordo<4thliS^n, eS?    r^hf*fu^ 
dupjiçate  I  spoke  of  Franri      -r^  ^^  œust  hâve  that 

v^^  oi,  i-rance.     To  possess  the  original 


■s 


h' 


S.  '       •       -   *  '    „  -.^AiA.; 


^^" 


.*.- 

,'J* 


s 


lt€^ 


146 


r 


A    WEE/P^  REPRIEVR. 


will  not  content  me  ;  I  must  hatre  the  counterfeit  présent* 
ment  also." 

This  in  a  tender  whisper  and  3  look,  from  under  thé  long, 
blonde  eyelashes  that  had  done  killing  exécution  in  its  time. 
It  missed  fire,  however,  so  far  as  France  was  concerned. 

"  I  doubt  if  Mr.  Lxicksley  will  take  time  'to  paint  dupli* 
.  cates,  Eric.    Men  who  make  their  mark,  as  he  bas  done, 
db  not  generally  df  vote  themselves  to  portrait  painting. 
Hère  he  cornes  nôwlf 

Her  color  rose  as  she  said  it — her  pale  cheeks  took  a  tint 
tivalling  her  dress.  Lord  Dynely  saW  it  ànd  frowned. 
Mentally,  that  is  ;  so  ugly  a  thiffg  as  a  frown  seldom  marred 
the  smooth  fairness  of  that  low  brow. 

"  Capital  fellow,  Locksley,"  he  said,  carelessly.  "  Saw  a 
^  great  ileal  of  him  at  one  time  in  Naples.  Can  tell  a  good 
story,  and  knock  off  a  neat  after-dinner  speech  better  than 
N.  any  man  I  know.  The  set  he  lived  among — painting  fellows 
ail— used  to  drop  hints,  though,  about  that  discarded  wife. 
There  is  one  somewhere,  dépend  upon  it,  and  Locksley 
didn't  Uct  over  and  above  well  in  the  business,  it  was  under- 
stood." 

France  turned  upon  him,  herself  again,  a  look  of  cool 
conterapt  in  lier  eyes.  «^-' 

"  Eric,  don't  be  ill-natured.     I  hâte  womanîsh  meiT,  and 
there's  nothing  on  earth  so  w«|^ianish  as  to  slander  ab^nt* 
firiends.     We  do  that  ;  but  let  us  rctafiinhe  copyright.". 

And  then  she  turns  away  and  goes  over  to  Mr.  Locksley, 
Iboking  proud  and  lovely,  and  holds  out  her  band  in^rdial 
■  welcome. 

V  Oqc  may  hâve  a  look  at  the  portrait,  I  suppose, 
ley  ?"  Eric  suggests,  unabashed. 

Mr.  Locksley  assents;  and  they  adjourn  to  the  painting< 
room — Terry,  who  drops  in.  following  in  their  wake.     It  is 
in  an  unfini^ed  state  as  yec,'  lacking  in  ail  détails,  but  it  is 
'  a  beautiful  and  striking  picture. 
'        From  a  cloud  of  misty  drapery  the  face  looks  vividly  out, 
the    lips    gravely   smiling,   the   serene    eyes    eamest  and^ 
— laminwâ  to  tliéw  Vèry  depths,  lOl  eHierealized  expression" 
iotensifying  its  beauty.    He  has  idealized  it  unconsciousî/ 


^ 


^iiÊSi.^^t. , 


^  {■^t'-k'iy. 


i.->t«|Si|^ 


^1 


-   1'  ■\     '    'M 


'r 


\  -vIls^îïV/.'.' 


'  vVV^''*'"'^'^?sÉ*î?"^i''Y'/^''''*'^''''^'^--'^^  ''**'  *'^  *"  <'■»■' '^"''^<  '■  '*  5' 


^   WEEIPÈ  RËPRIEVE, 


147 


— a  handsome  gtrl  has  sat  to  hitn — ^he  has  painted  a  divin<^ 
ity.  •  '  " 

France  stands  and  looks,  and  her  face  flushes.  Ah  I  she 
has  never  worn  that  look.  She  knpws  she  is  of  the 
earth,  earthy — ^very  little  of  the  angel  about  her,  after  alL 
And  he  has  painted  more  an  angel  than  a  woman. 

"  He'm,"  says  Eric,  i^ith  his  hand  over  hîs  çyes,  critically» 
**  *ery  good — very  pretty;  indeed.     Paint  a  halo  round  her.  m 
and  call  it  St.  Teresa,  or  St.  Cecelia  at  once — it  looks  like 
that  sort  of  thing,  you  know.     Jt's  a  pretty  picture,  but  it 
isn't  you,  France  ;  that  is  not  your  natural  expression." 

"  No,"  France  says,  under  her  breath.  "  I  am  sorry  to 
say  it  is  not." 

"AndI  prefer  your  natural  expression,"  goes  on  Eriçi 
"  It  is  very  well  done,  as  I  said  before,  but  it  doesn't  do  you 
justice."  •*        ,  "  ' 

"And  I  think  it  is  grossly  flattered,"  puts  in  Terry, 
gruffly. 

France  bestows  upon  him  à  look  of  absolute  gratitude. 

"  Flattered  !     I  should  think  so,  Tefry.     Tha^  face  Mr.  - 
Locksley  has  painted  out  of  his  inner  consciousness,  and  is 
what  France  Forrester  should  be — what,  I  regret  to  add,  she 
is  not."  '  * 

Mr.  Locksley  takes  no  part  in  the  discussion;  he  goes 
steadfastly  on  with  his  work.  Terry  yawns  loudly,  whistles 
in  an  aimless  way,  thrusts  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and 
stares  at  the  artisf  s  rapid  movements,  until  France,  whose 
tJerves  he  sets  on  edge,  orders  him  perçmptorily  to  leave  the  „ 
room.  "Eric  lingers,  lounging  in  a  deep  window,  looking^  •' 
unutterably  patrician  and  handsome  in  hb  blackvdvet 
morning  coat,  contrasting  so  perfectly  with  his  pearMii^ 
complexion  and  fair  hair.  He  remains  ail  through  the  sit-^ 
ting,  he  foUows  France  out  into  the  Italian  rose,  garden 
when  it  is  over,  he  hangs  about  her  like  her  sheid<Mir  idl  day, 
and  makes  tender  little  speeches  when  he  can.  At  dinner 
it  is  the  same — in  the  evening  it  is  worse.  He  is  really  anch  • 
Iruly  in  earnest  for  the  tinie.     Whilst  he  lyaa  sure  of  Iw-hcL^ 


was  indiffèrent — now  that  he  stands  a  chance  61  losing  her 
he  w()rk8  hifnself  into  a  fever  of  dévotion.    She  is  in  love 


Ât      *^  f 


Al 


-'m 


"  ■'lÀ'àfi-f^'atJiiàlt 


•■■■,-•'  ',■  '"T-lI'iT-», 


€.:■■} 

ri'-        » 


:;;f 


148 


A   WEEK*S  REPRIEVE. 


/ 


tnth  Lockslcv,  Loclcsley  with  her— that  be  seea.  Th^t  hit 
a%)ut  the  hidden  wife  has  stung.  The  green-eyed  ta^mXtx 
bl0w3  the  slight  lire  of  hisaflfection  into  a blaze.  He  wifl  win 
and  wear  Miss  Forrester,  or  know  the  reason  why.  Frante  en- 
dures it  as  long  as  she  can.  That  is  not  very  long.  At  no 
dme  are  patience  and  meekness  her  most  notable  virjtues  ; 
as  Eric  bends  persistently  over  the  piano  for  an  houii  at  a 
stretcb,  the  slight  tbread  of  that  patience  gives  way  at  l^t. 

•♦  Eric,  do  give  nie  a  moment's  peace,"  she  cries  eut 
"Go  and  pkjr  chess  with  your  mother;  go  and  tal)c  to 
Terry  or  Mr.^teeves;  go  and  noake  love  to  Miss  Hanfôrd  ; 
go  and  smoke  a  cigar  ip  the  dèw;  anything,  only  leave  me 
alone." 

He  starts  up,  his  pride  fairiy  stunç.  \ 

"  As  yott  please.  As  I  îun  so  disagreeable  to  you,  sup- 
pose I  take  niyself  away  from  the  Abbey  altogether." 

"  I  wish  you  would,"  she  answers  cordially,  "  for  this  we^ 
at  least.  You  irritate  me  beyond  measure  haunting  me  in 
this  way.  Leave  me  ^one,  Eric,  if  you  really  care  for  niy 
décision.'^  7 

"  If  I  really  care  I  "  he  reproachfully  repeats.  ! 

■"The  vaotsi  gênerons  ^ou  are,  the  better  your  chances 
will  be.  Wheh  the  week  is  up,  corne  back  if  you  like,  for-4 
for  your  ansïfrer.**  \ 

"France!  and  îT^hat  answer  be  favorable.  Ifl  Good 
Heaven,  itraustbe,"he  cries.  \ 

"Then"--her  voice  trembles,  she  tums  her  face  away 
from  him  in  the  glow  of  the  waxlights — "then  you  will 
never  roore  hear  me  complain  of  your  attentions." 

He  lifts  her  hand  and  kisses  it. 
.  ^  "  I  will  g»,"  he  says,  gently.     "  Forgive  me,  France,  but 
Ihe  thought  of  losing  you  is  so — ^  / 

"  Don't,"  she  says,  in  a  voice  that  is  alnâost  one  of  pain.  * 
f  Where  will  you  go  ?  **  -  ■ 

"To  Lincolnshire— to  Sir|Philip  Ca^thertf  plàà.  I 
hâve  had  a  standing  invitatioET  to  Carrùthers'  CourI  for  the 
past  two  years."  - 

"Wbat'a  tbat  about  Llueoïnshirc?"  T 


in^    "l'm  «fr  tliere—ai»  you  on  the  wing  again,  Eric  ?" 


. --  f 


i- 


A   WEEJTS  REPRIEVR. 


"For  a  we«k,  ye»— to  Carruthers'.  You're  a  Lincoln- 
Bhire  man,  Terry— -do  you  know  it  ?  " 

"  Do  I  not  ?  It  19  three  miles  froni  Starliog  vicarage^ 
Sball  be  glad  to  meet  you  there,  dear  old  boy.  Capital 
fishing,  best  trout  streams  anywhere,  prime  shooting  a  little 
.later  on.     We  will — 


■m 


* . 


"  *  We  will  hunt  the  bear  and  IwMiii,  we  will  shoot  th»^d  taccoon, 
We  will  worshq>  Mumbo  Jumbb  in  the  Mountains  of  the  Mo<>n  !  '  " 

tpouts  France.  •'  There  are  nine  prètty  Misses  Higgins— . 
aren't  there,  Terry  ?  Don't  let  Eric  poach  on  yourniancN*— 
it  is|  in  his  line,  you  know." 

Fçance  was  herself  again.  The  prospect  of  a  week  to 
quietly  think  the  è»atter  out  was  a  great  deaL  And  who 
knew  wbat  even  a  week  niight  bring  forth? 

It  ims  settled  that.  they  should  go  together  ;  Ladjr 
Dynely's  consent  had  been  won  at  last. 

"  But,  retneraber,"  she  said  at  parting,  looking  anxiously 
inte  Terry's  eyes,  "you  are  to  return  in  a  week,  and  mean- 
time  you  are  to  say  nothing  to  :ft»Iiss  Higgins.  This  I  insist 
upon.     When  you  haye  heard  wîiàt  I  Jiave  to  say — " 

He  looked  at  her  ih  anxious  wondefc"  What  could  it  be, 
he  thought,  to  make  Lady  Dynely  wear  that  face  of  pale 
affright  ?  What  secret  was  hère  ?  He  would  obey  her  in  ail 
thin^;  she  hardly  needed  the  assurance,  and  yet  it  was 
with  a  darkly  troubled  face  she  stood  on  the  portico  steps 
and  watched  the  two^young  naen  disappear. 

♦' Thank  fortune,"  France  breathed  devoutly,  "iw»  rfiall 
hâve  a  quiet  week.  Men  are  a  mistake  in  a  honsehold,  I 
bcgin  to  find.  Like  yeast  in  si^U  béer,  they  tum  the 
peaceful  stream  of  woman's  life  intô  seething  ferment." 

"  France,"  the  elder  lady  said,  takine  both  the  girPs  hands, 
and  loo)cing  earnestly  down  into  her  ^es,  M  you  are  to  give 
Eric  \&i  answer  when  he  retums— I  know  that.  When  doeg 
.  he  retum?'^-'vY^  .   .    ^  .-.  :,.,,-  y        '  W^'^        ' 

"In  a  wfeçk.*'^' ■  '"  ^''        ''-''■ 


f  ^~ 


TAHd  thé  ànswër  wîirbe— "        '^^  j 

"l4«ly  Dynely,  you  hâve  no  right  to  ask  that    When  the 


X* 


!1 


4 


'î^ife^^SC'V  ^^.>. 


■J 


\ 


^.- 


4 


■3f 


■aV^^~* 


150 


-*   WEEK'S  REPRIEVB. 


^ven  tfyj^."*^  ^""^  '■^'"™'  *°  "^"^^  the  answer  shall  b« 
sigh!?^   dropped  the  hands  and  turtîed  away  with  a  heayy 

'  ouilîlJ''".??f  ?^?"^  ^>°P^I  P'^y."  France  went  on, 
quietly.  If  Enç's  happiness  were  involved— if,  indeed,  he 
loved  me,after  the  tacit  consent  I  hâve  given  ail  thèse 

nr»!'  ï^  "^2^'  '"'îi  '°^^  '"^-^^  «  Incapable  of  lov- 

ing  any  one  but  himself.    Oh,  yesî     Lady  Dynely.  even 

you  must  hear  the  truth  sometimes  about  Eric     As  î 

•  looks'SJ  '  w\^''  ''™  well  enough-be  proud  of  hisgooS 

s  eve'r  t  .f f  f  ,T""'\?'  ^^^^  "^  '  ^  a  husband,  ff  he 
is  ever  that,  I  shall  detest  him." 

»'  France  1» 
and  L'S-  ^  Ï^S^»"  y?"*  do  I  not  ?     It  is  true.  though, 
m"iv  ;7    •    K  °^  ?^  ^^^"^^  *^  honeynioon  is  over.     u\l 
to  this  compact,  whatjg,left  me  but  to  yield ?" 
rh-^"  ""^  *  IT^^^  e'""''  France  ;  you  want  a  hero-a 
SnZf^^^^^^^•'>""""^°*•     Dear  child,  there  are 

C  J^S^Jïr,r°"'  «//^^l^io"  with  tilt  and   tournament. 
You  w  U  «a^  Enc,  I  foresee,  and  make  a  man^  of  him 
A     'y'"  «°^»'o  parhament,  make  speeches,  and  bea  niost 
Ob'^'^r^^'^ft^  *°  '^^  ^Tn*"^  happiest;ife  in  England 

Skk  irh;.rf  ff  r  ^""y      ^  ^r^  y°"  ^°  ^^"  *hat  I  wiU 
«  ï  W,''^?" 'f  *^>'s  marriage  does  not  take  place." 

And  I  wiU  break  mine  if  it  does,"  France  answers.  with 

a  amous  imle  laugh.     «  Let  us  not'talk  of  it  any  mSe,  jï 

Ztt    ^   "^  ^^^  ^^^^  ^^'^'^  "«  ^e  not?    We  hâve  a 
week  s  grâce,  and  much  may  happen  in  a  week.    I  hâve  the 

Vyn^y"'  '""'"""^^  *^°""*^^^*'"  ^'  ^  wiU  never  ^LaSy 


...     --.r',^ 


;1 


l 

A. 

K 

>^ 

' 

[ 

,** 

* 

'■ 

.^^ 

- 

•' 

î 

.-4  - .      : 

• 

-à.*.- 

!»<?. 


bSà 


lï^fesTv^  iV^^^T^^il^^^^^^     -'     I    >^ 


-W 


1  f  % 


■%x 


,  he 
lese  / 
B  to 
lov- 
vën 
s  a  . 
3od 
he 


■.,,1 


;; 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


"WHO  IS   SHE?' 


jCENE,  an  o)d-fashioned  country  garden  of  an  old- 
fashioned  country  house  ;  time,  the  mellow,  amber 
hour  before  sunçet;  dramatis  personne,  a  young 
man  and  a  young  girl  ;  names  of  dramatis  personse, 

Mr.  Terence  Dennison,  of  Her  Majest/s th  Dragoons, 

and  Miss  Christabel  Higgins,  eighth  daughter  of  the  Rev. 
William  Higgins,  Vicar  of  Starling,  and  beauty  of  the  fam- 
ily. 

A  beauty?  Well,  as  Tony  Lumpkin  says,  "Thafs  as 
may  be."  If  you  liked  a  complexion  of  milk-white  and  rose- 
pink,  the  eighth  Miss  Higgins  had  it  ;  if  you  liked  big, 
childish,  surprised-looking,  turquoise  blue  eyes,  there  they 
weré*for  you  ;  if  you  liked  a  dear  little,  dimpled,  rosy  mouth, 
there  it  was  aiso  ;  if  you  liked  a  low,  characterless  forehead, 
a  round,  characterless  chin,  and  a  feathery  auréole  of  palest 
blonde  hair,  the  eighth  ||^iss  Higgins  rejoiced  in  ail  thèse 
pfetty  and  pleasant  gifts.  If  yo).i  fancied  a  waist  you  might 
span,  a  shape,  small,  slim,  fragile  as  a  lily-stalk,  little  Crystal 
would  hâve  béen  your  idéal,  certainly.  Pretty  ?  Yes,  with 
a  tender,  dove-like,  inane  sort  of  prettiness,  that  does  its 
work  with  a  certain  sort  of  men.  Mind,  she  had  none; 
depth,  she  b<^'l  none  ;  knowledge  of  this  biz,  wicked  world, 
Bhe  had  noi."  ;  in  short,  she  was  man's  idéal  of  perfect 
womanhood,  'nfringing  on  no  daim  whatever  of  the  lordly 
sex.  And  Terry  Denniaon  was  her  abject  slave  and 
adorer. 

She  was  <;eventeen   this    sunny  August  afternoon.     It 

seemed  to  Torry  he  had  idolized  her — idolized  was  the  way 

Mr.  Dennison  thought  it— ever  since  she  had  been  seven. 

-fihe^new  she  was  pfetty— dove4ike  innocence  to  the  owir 


■  ^ 


'm 


1^    «,"a^.'      <!;S(%)«^ 'i\.i^,fc.*ilVi.»  ,ji.- !.idf«<«ti;t  4, 


-,-*> 

¥ 


152 


••»WD  zy  ^isw/.. 


éXoXîSr'^^^^^^^^^  P-/^^ess  as  thoroughîy  as  any 
a."d  praised  for  those  blue  eyes^n'd  ^^î?^^'  ^nd  kissed! 
since  the  day,  g(  bibs  and  fuckS?  ^t^7  J^"'^"  ^^«'■ 
her  seven  elder- sisters  snubbed  /tS  ^^^  ^^^  m  seen 
cakes  and  the  sugar-plums  aitVvl  n?l*^'?^  T^^'  ^"^^  the 

thmgs  uhad  been  ordered  Slfh-      ^  ^'^^^^^  ^tn^s  of 

she,  hke  the  lihes  of  the  fidd  TJ3  ^^^""^^  *"^  "«"^ed  : 
gkesandsugar-plumsofWe  'r^^^^^  The 

belonged  by  right  divine  tonZwvi^^.''^'^u*''^*y«>'  ^^ey 
hairand  turquoise  eyesT    Lt  !i/  f  T^^  '""''  '»*'«  y<^"ow 
complexions,  and  the  dîy-atdust  Jln  ^"r''  f**  ^^^^kled 
'      She  would  niarry  Terry  Denn?,L      '^"^  ^^'^  ^°  the  work. 
ferry  «ras,  an  o4oot7f  The  a  L  "  /""'^  t^'  *"^  be,  as 
whowas  Teny's  patroness  Lh  r°  "f^"     ^hisgreat  lâdy 
'^ould  Presen7herat  cSurt  w^W-""^-  ^?"'^  *"^«  ^^  "P 
and  the  world  of  her  S„,no,,  3T  ^""^  '"^  ^^'  P^^ies 
realuies.    She  would  see  thU  hf  J^  *^  ''^'=°"«  ^^e  world  of 

of  whomTerryneveîtlr^dt^kfnï^rs!..^^^  f^^  ^^"«'?' 
Forrester,  who  was  to  marrv  hbf     a  /'^«?"*  ^'«'  France 

beingsbftheupperwoKiil?'    ^î"^'  «'ho  kne,^-these 
her  in  tum.       ^^  ^""^"^  '"'«ht  condescend  even  to  admire 

-%e^n^rsrfï?^  " -^he 

read  mankind  like  a  bo^k  Xn  thet  hf  "  f  ^'^^^^  ^"  <^^n 
Teny  was  in  love  with  her  hf3    1  '^  ^l^  ^hat  complaint. 
just  as  well  a,  Te^  himS,lf"^id^^f  ^^'  «he  knew  [ 
well;  she  wasn't  in  lové  Sk;       .*^^  hked  Teny  very 
fonder  of  him  than  of  any  Xr  "uni""'  ^""i  ^*'"  ^«  -« 
he  was  a  dragoon,  and  /L?  t hJ  ^     ^  "*"  «he  knew  j  and 
^  jas  a  pity.^she'As  w^  oS^^Lf  ^'^<>ver'him  ' 
w  homely  ;  even  beinir  a  dr^^S  '^^«'fy""/.  that  he  was 
away  with  thf  fur»  Xi  ?_*''^*goon  could  net  pnhrgiy  ^n 
y     tn  the  fart  that  he  waa  hame^^;!,,!^^,^^ 


r 


^^«•A^-i  -^k^**.  j 


,1 '-«It 


"»WO  IS  SHEf 


153 


« 


None  of  the  heroes  of  Miss  Higgins'  pet  novek  ever  had 
hair  of  that  obnoxious  hue.  Still-one  mustn't  expect  every- 
thing  in  this  lower  world— papa  and  mamma  instilled  that 
into  her  sentimental  little  noddle— it  is  only  for  beings 
of  that  upper  world— like  Miss  Forrester,  for  instance, 
to  look  for  husbands  handsome  as  Greek  gods,  titled, 
w-althy.     Les»-favored  mortals  must  take  the  goods  theii 

«ods  provide,  and  be  thankful.     The  wife  of  a  dragoon,  with 
ve  hundred  a  year,  looked  a  brilliant  vista  to  the  "beauty 
daughter  "  of  the  Vicar  of  Starling. 

And  now  the  question  resolved  itself.     Why  didn't  Terry 
speak  ?     He  had  written  of  his  good  fortune,   of  Lady 
Dynel/s  boundless  kindness,  and  the  Révérend  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Higgms  congratulated   themselves  that  "Crissy's"  fortune 
was  insured.     Crissy  herself  simpered  and  cast  dowh  her 
blonde  eyelashes,  and  saw  with  secret  satisfaction,  the  sour 
and  envions  regards  of  the  seven  elder  Misses  Higgins,  who 
were  verging  helplessly  toward  the  sere  and  yellow  leaf. 
Then  Terry  wrote  of  his  speedy  visit     "  And  I  really  think, 
Christabel,   my  love,"  said  Mamma  Higgins,  **we   might 
begin  making  up  the  outfit     It  wiil  take  some  time,  and  o\ 
course  he  cornes  down  with  but  one  intention,  that  of  pro- 
posing  immediately."    And  a  few  things  were  commenced. 
The  first  week  of  August  came,  the  big  dragoon  with  it,  his 
frank  face  and  good-humored  eyes  fairly  luminous  with  de- 
Iight  at  being  with  them  again.     Those  eager,  loving  eyes 
actually  devoured  Crystal  ;  not  for  five  minutes  at  a  stretch 
could  they  leave  that   pretty  doU  face.     He  haunted  her 
everywhere,  as  a  big,  lumbering  Newfoundland  might  follow 
a  htge  curled,  silkyKing, Charles.     He  looked  love,  he 
huited  love,  he  acted  love,  in  ten  thousand  différent  ways, 
but  he  never  spoke  it.     He  blushed  if  she  suddenly  lookçd 
at  hun,  stammered  if  she  suddenly  addressed  him,  touched 
the  little  lily-leaf  hand  she  gave  him  with  the  timidity  char- 
actenstic  of  big,  warm-hearted  men,  vcry  far  gone  indeed  ;  but 
beyond  that  he  never  got    "  Miss  Crystal  Higgins,  wilI 
yo"  '"yry  me?"  was  a  conundrum  he  never  propounded. 


^iàJ  Mminns. Higgins'  roatronl7  eyeil>êgatt  ttf  loSSlf  al~Kînr 
wrathfuUy  over  her  spectacles,  tlie  seven  elder  Misses  Higgini 


Aci 


.  lâi . .;  ''.'•u  î'J-uïii^  ':-i 


"Xt, , 


<■**'. 


i^ 


.% 


i'V  ' 


jS4        '  "wao  is  sHBr* 

.  , ,  to  c^st  sisteriy,  satirical  glances  after  the  beauty,  and  CryslaJ 
herself  to  open  those  innocent  turquoise  orbs  of  hers  to  their 
widest,  and  wonder  what  made  T^ny  so  awfully  bashful. 
The  last  day  btit  one  of  the  visit  had  corne  and  Terry  had 
not  spoken.  /  .  «vr 

It  was  Crystal's  birthday,  and  there  was  to  be  a  Jittle  fête  • 
croquet  in  the  back  garden— the  faniily  bleaching-ground  on 
ordinary^occasions-a  tea-drinking  under  the  apple-trees 
afterward,  and  a  dance  by  moonlight. 

Th^  coftipany  had  begun  to  gather;  but  there  were 
Mamma  Htggins  and  the  seven  other  Misses  Higgins  tore- 
ceive  and  entertain  them,  so  Terry  drew  his  idol's  hand  in- 
side  his  coat-sieeve,  andtledher  away  for  a  little  last  ïamble 

o  er  the  nioor  among  the  heathér." 
1    "^^So  '^^J'  to-morrowr,  and  I  cannot  tell  exactiy  how 
.      long  ^dy  Dynely  may  detain  mp,  so  let  me  gather  my 
roses  xvliile.  they  bloom,"  said  Terry,  growing  poetical.  as 
,      many  young  gentlemen  do  when  in  love. 

"It  seems  tome,  Terry,"  said  the  eigh^h  Miss  Higgins. 
rather  pettishly,  "you  are  a  sort  of  companion  for  Lad,^ 
Dynely  s  lap-dog,  to  fetch  and  carry,  to  comë  and  go,  as  you 
îl^/  ?-^  ,X°"  ^1«,«°°  bjg,  I  should  think,  to  let  yourself 
be  treated  like  a  little  boy  aUyour  life." 

It  was  not  often  Mlle.  Crystal  made  so  determined  a  stand 
f  ii  u  ^  or/uttered  so  spirited  a  speech.  But  mamma  had 
told  her  this  very  day  that  something  must  be  done  ;  that  if 
6he  couldn't  bnng  Terry  to  the  point  herself,  papa  must  ask 
,  his  intentions.  A  littlè  firing  of  blank  cartridge  is  very  well 
but  if  you  want  to  bring  down  your  bird,  you  must  use  real 
powderand  shot. 

^Terrys  face  flushed.  He  understood  the  reprooC  and 
felt  he  deserved  it.  Love  may  be  blind,  but  not  quite  stone 
blind  ;  he  saw  well  enough  what  was  expected  of  him  by 
the  vicar-s  family,  by  the  little  beauty  herself,  and  knew  he 
was  exciting  anger  and  ^ame  for  not.doing  what  he  was 
^  "):!"«  to  ào.  He  deserved  this  reproof,  and  reddened 
«uiltily.  Whar  if  Crystal  knew  it  was  by  Lady  Dynel/s 
^^"1""'^.  K^'^  °°^  ^^^  ^Pg^^^'  how  she  would  despise  him  f 


-Andiorthe^strâneiroccurrerto  Mm  that  peihaps  it  was 


■V 

i 


l 


• 


J'* 


;, 


1 


••  H^ffO  fS  SIfEr* 


ISS 


lather  unkind  o^chat  best  of  women  to  bave  bonnd  him  to 
this  promise.  •  > 

"I  should  never  hâve  corne  down  herc  at  ail  untiî  I  was 
free  to  say  ail  that  is  b  my  heart,"  he  thought     «  Oh,  my 

.  darUng  !   before   the  sun  sinks  out  of  sight  yonder,  yoù 

.  would  know  hfe  holds  no  thought  half  so  swèet  as  the 
thought  of  making  you  my  wife." 
Slw  was  loQkihg  very  lovely  in  this  roseate  evening  lîght— 

.  but  Terry  thought  when  did  she  not  look  lovely  ?  She  wore 
flowing  white  muslin— she  was  that  sort  of  ethereaî  créature 
who  seemed  born  to  wear  whité  muslin.  She  had  a 
bunch  of  roses  in  her  breast,  roses  iiï  her  sash,  roses  in 

'Jj^r  nand,  and  a  heartsbreakingiy  coquettish  "Dollj^  Var-  ' 
qen  "  on  hèr  head.  She  ha^  à  cascade  of  white  wax  beads 
around  her  long,  si im  throat,  and  knots  of  blue.  ribbon 
streaming  from  he^  golden  Ipclcs.  The  yellow  sunsbine  fell 
jull  upon  the  perfeçt  face,without  finding  a  flaw  in  it  i^he 
httle  snowdrop  of  a  hand  rested-on  his  arm  ;/the  s»ft,  affec.^ 
tionate,  feproachful  eyes  Iboked  Up  at  him  wailing  ih.pathetic 

"You  know  I  like  you  ;  I  know  yo^r  love  me  ;  then  why 
don  t  you  say  so,  Terry,  and  please  mamma  and  me  ?  You 
hâve  only  to  ask  and  receive  ;  I  think  ît  is  a  little  too  bad  of 
you  to  go  on  like  tliis."  That  was  what  ,tha^reproachfuI 
lutle  look  said,  and  Tdrry  groane4  m  spirit  ashe  sawand 
runderstood  and  chafed  against  the  fetters  that  bound  htm. 

See  hère.  Crystal,*'  he  said,  "  there's  something  I  want 
to  say  to  yoii"— Crystal's  heart  gave  a  little  fluttér  beneath 
he  roses,  .CrystaPslips  parted  in  an  injepressible  smile— 
but  I  can't  say  îfjust  nowl"  •        '  '  ■     ■       . 

He  paused,  fç^r  Ae  smile  faded  awrtyT  afiUWlight  bïue 
eyes  looked  up  m  anger  and  alarm  to  his  face.  ~ 

"  I  can't  say  it  just  now/'  purgued  Mr.  Dennison,  with  a 
great  gulp,  "  bec»u8e— because  VH  promised.  I  don't 
know  why,  I  m  sure,  but  there's  something  to  be  told,  and  l'm 
to  go  back  and  hear  it  before  I  returo  and  speak  to  v^».»' 

Lucid  this,  certainly.    With  dilated  eyes  and  parted  lipfc 


\<       .     '^^ 


."^l' 


n.1 


>  » 


^iss^^rystal  Higgi,,»was  ,t«iiignpathim,^^w^^ 
Boundered  hopelessly  througb  this  morass  q{  explanation. 


'^m 


i^  tf. . 


M'      * 


>f       ,  j  ^/.   bj<A.Œ«*-r-T*)*v*4^;^3ài(<J|^^^ 


'  1 


? 


V 


■r- 


'h 


t$6 


"«WO  /J  SJfSf* 


■^  hJi'i""  ^A^  totnojTow,"  went  on  the  dragoon:   "I  lofd 
r!?=e    *K  .  r.]*®l'  ^''*"  havo^omething  to  say  to  vou 

\  \«n?l'**?^***u.ï.®''  '«npJonngIf--a  woman  blind,  and  deaf 
,land  du,„b,  mtgh  hâve  understood  ail  he  meant     Bu?  S 
prystal  was  a  kittenish  litUe  coquette,  and  her  eves  *e?e 

î  ™Stni'"  "T  '°  •'^^^^^  ^°^  scatteringW^th 
"I  don't  understand  a  word  y6u  are  saying,  Mr.  Dennt. 

7^A.ul    ^^'^"«goback.    rradyingforagameofi^oqueL 
and  ail  the  people  niust  hâve  corne."  ^        "«coquet, 

Won't  you  promise  me,  then,  Crystal  ?  »  / 

Promise  you  what,  Terry  ?  "  /  ^ 

«  Xo  wait  until  I  return.    To-to  not  fofget  me,"  savs 
poor  Terry,  with  a  sort  of  ^an.  *  '     ^ 

h«^n  L"'^'"'  ^ï'Shs.  When  a  girl's  lofe?  stands,  before 
thif  2,S  •  ^^''"«^f  masculine  awkwardness  and  bashfulnes^ 
that  gifl  is  mim^ately  at  her  ease.  «""«ness, 

«nvT**'  ""?  y?"  "^^J*"""  ^  ^  '^^^e  no  intention  of  running 
anywhere,   ydu   stupid   Terry.     Forget    you?    Now    hol- 

^^^S7^'  ^^,"  ?  ^  ^^^'  ^'^««  y°"^  nLe  i.a  household 
back  and  play  croqtiet."  v/  ici  us  go 

'»Vyait  one  moment,  Crystal.  I  bought  you  this.  Ihia 
mornmg.  Wear  it  for  my  Lke  until  I  rltnm;  and  then  I 
wiU  replace  it  with  a  diamond."  • 

ca«\^nv"SÎL^T  ^"  r«r<=ket  a  tiny  case,  from  the 
Mse  a  tmy  ni^  of  pearls  and  turquowe   only  made  for 

ÎSs."*"*-    ^'  ''  '^^"^'^^  *>^^  oneofînSr  Chris! 


i,(^^%»St^si^'ù- 


^'t^JY}'f¥= 


•S''w.,VV 


i;ô>1i;K*%    -p- 


•H' 


,*'*"Ï*V^».^*^*'''^    ****  '  ^       •'4*^/'^*  -    ■^«^  :j\^  t^^A*^**  w-^^js»-^  «t«g|i^>nc 


••l«5«>  IS  SffMf- 


^it 


r.i  i:zsL'^^  '•"""  "^  *•  -»■  •«"  ^^ 

JThey  stand  a  moment  stiU.    Over  the  flat,  distant  marshe» 

be  August  sun  .s  setting,  turning  the  pools  that  lie  bSween 

"        ïthTiï;'"*^.?S''°^x**!°^-    The  distant  sea  lies  slee^ing 

MiS  S:?  ^*-    Y  VV  Pî««y--^i««  Tennysonian!/ 
Miss  Hiajm»  pensively  thinks;  but  her  soûl  is  with  th^ 
^    croquet  players.     «Let  us  go  back.  Teriy  "  she  is  on    he 
point  of  ^ying  for  the  thi^d  time.  when  s^'stTps,  surpri^d  " 
by  the  look  Teny  ^rears.     He  is  staring  hard  strai^h?  befoïe 

.    amaï^       ^n^^t»! '?oks  too,  and  sees  coniiug  towards  them 

;;;iîi:'^s;:fô?>î"'^^^'"  -pyjoveHtisiy 

K^r^"*^  /  wondered  he  hadn't  looked  me  up  before;    He 

has  been  stoppmg  at  Sir  Philip  Carruthere'  plie  forYhe  l«t  . 

five  days.     Yes,  it  is  Eric"  F  *^«=  lor  ine  last 

"Eric?"  .  y 

"  Y*^^  Eric— Lord  Dynely,  yoû  know.     No.  bv  the  bvp 

you^don-t  know,  but  you  have'heard  of  hin,  Ôft7n  e2?b 

^««2'il*?!  Si^"u  '^f'^»"*^  ^^  and  looked  with  ^  llttle 
lutter  again,beneath  the  roses,  at  the  young  noblemân  a^ 
proaching  whor  had  been  described  to\er  by  entbïsias*^ 
S  H—""?"  l  "f  *'  b««'-»ooWng  fdlow  in  EnS  « 
with  fair  ff  hi°?'^  '^K?  ^'^  *  y°""«  «"^^  o^  twen?y.one, 
Tnd  the  w^rnlïf  Î-T^  **'"*'  ^y*^.''  *  ""'*  golden  mùs[ache 
S"e  Ju^r^r.  wuL*  cen  enarian.  who  has  used  up  ail  the 
^easures  of  this  wicke^world  some  sixt3r  or  seven^  yeara 

T,  "  Eric,  old  boyj  glad  you've  looked  me  dp  at  last."  was  ail 
Teny  said,  but  his  wKole  face  lit  as  if  the  meîe  riïht  oftS 

Costal  Higgins.    Crystal,  the  friend  of  my  youth,  the  plaT 


g^.-^^..PPMa;^ 


m 


'W 


Jifx 


4     •. 


*> 


V 

'■<'■  - 

.  5; 


*■  j-^  % 


<^I5« 


•'««MW  /s  SHBt^ 


"•She'saharduntofoUow,  , 

A  ^8d  un  to  beat,'  :." 


^-«y  ««-^;;;;:;^'"^ï^'^g|?^^^5„^' 


*■• 


\  ' 


\ 
'"Il    - 


>/ 


If.  c 


i* 


"»W0  /s  SHEt"* 


*59 


Yes,  he  can  play  croquet,  «nd  play  it  weU.  He  and  the 
héroïne  of  the  fôte  corne  oflF  triumphant  in  cvery  gaïue.  They 
play  croquet,  and  that  other  classical  ganje  yclept  "Aunl 
Sally,"  an<i  ho  lingers  by  Grystal's  side,  and  for  the  oue  thou- 
sandth  time  his  inflammable  fancy  fires,  and  a  nevr  fair  face 
enchants  him.  ^ 

They.go  to  tea  under  the  gna^d  old  apple-trees.  There 
is  a  snowy  cioth,  old-fashioned  china  cups  of  peart^nd  blue, 
fragrant  tea,  home-made  pound  cake  and,  jelly  ;  and  Eric, 
whose  luncheon  has  been  a  glass  of  sherry  and  a  biscuit, 
and  who  has  not  dined)  makes  a  martyr  of  himself,  and  drinks 
the  tea,  and  partages  of  the  pound  cake  ànd  jelly  and  helps 
theyoung  ladies,  and  pays  compliments,  anà  tells  pretty  Utile 
stories.   - 

The  moon  ha?  arisen  before  they  hâve  done^  and  they 
^ance  by  its  light  to  the  music  of^the  jingly  vicarage  piano, 
uï?on  which  the  nine  Miss  Higginses  hâve  practised  for  the 
laât  twenty  years.  Then  they  adjourn  \o  the  drawing-room, 
and  there  is  more  dancing,  and  presentlyit  iseleven  o'clock, 
and  the  party  breaks  up. 

"You  go  back  to-morrow  then,  Dennison?"  Lord  Dynely 
asks,  carelessly,  as  they  shake  hands  at  parting. 

"  Yes  ;  and  you  ?  " 

"  I  remain  two  or  three  days  longer.    Carruthers  wishes  it, 
ifs  rather  a  pleasant  house,  and  he's  a  good  fellow.     Capi- 
•tal  quarters  you  hâve  hère,  old  man— 4  vcry  seraglio  ol 
beauty."  .     -^ 

«Howdoyoulike  Afr?"Terryinquire8.  *"     ' 

«  Which  her  ?  thei-e  are  so  raany.  Oh,^he  little  queen  of 
the  revels,  of  course.  As  charming  a  little  woodland  nymph 
as  ever  I  saw.  My  taste  doesn't  generally  run  to  rustic 
beauties,  but  she's  as  sweet  as  one  of  her  own  roses.  ,  Wheil 
am  I  to  çongratulate  you,  Terry,  my  boy  ?  " 

"Soon,  I  hope,"  Terry  answers,  with  a  lauj^  and  ahappy 
iight  m  his  eyes  ;  and  Lord  Dynely  looks  at  him  with  a  cun- 
ous  smile  as  heroUs  up  a»  cigarette  to  light  him  on  his 
homeward  way. 

^^^^.Sig  aces  hiaKo  tlw^te — hoyhe^MPi^^itntreneâOT' 
telli  buthe  is  exceptionaliy  clever  at  thèse  thidga.    Sbe  goes 


/*"• 


*S2r 


iiL 


\., 


■h 


'fi-^^-'**? 


roo 


'ïi-'W;- 


\**mto  /s  sHBr 


■Jl 


s> 


"C" 


} 


.-^ 


lumbenng    Teny.     It  would    hT^ -^    ^  '  '^'8' "ocouth, 

blUshes,  and  shn^ks,  an  JîreLl^  *    "'^'''^g^-     «°^    shé 

.    «ort  of  thing  that^ts  novelu.  i^t;r^  «^  ^^at 

those  tender  little  soûl  iwhosi  S^  ^  '"P*'^^-     ^"e  o' 

and«noking  no  end^^iiaarettef  *S"°!  ï»/^«:t^dly  out, 
^  -<^wn^hisw^S^^S:iÏ3^->;^^  cigareu^ 

thatyou  were  4ht,T^  iJl^unLtfnd"  '^  ''^^  conclusion, 
you  to  a  compact  madewS»  *^  "«generous  to  hold 

you  to  marry  me  if  you  do  „o/i    ^  ^  «^all  never  conïpel 
France,   àt    any  co J  ï«      "o*  jove  me  in  rcturn.     No 

your  hand.  Unle«  youfeef^tbaTth!  V^"«^  *"  ^'^  *<> 
pffer,you  canreturn,  thenferîî  .V  r  ^^''°*^^  »«"«^t»on  T 
into  a  loveless  unio^  /  mS,  iSf  /ï"!."''  '<>  fo'-ce  you 
fie^.  ™°"-    '^'"^J'^'^etched,  butyoushaUbe 

cla^isTpo^to&e  p^^^^^       '  ^^""^  "^'^  «  "rging  my 
Wiev^i;  ^'^*^^  U^^ourownheartrS^^^^ 


a»  a 


\ 


^     i^i_    .. 


i«:S 


à'iïjaTt,^''*^!!** 


W 


K 


,**WHO  IS  SHBt» 
Write  to  me  here-it  will  beless  painful  for  both  of  us  than 

,.  "Eric" 

«rS*"  *f*".««"erous  pièce  of  composition  I     L<ïfd  Dynelv 

By  Dext  morning's  post  this  lellerœnt  off  to  Devonshire 
Afewhours  later,  irreproachaWe  in  Se  nXêM"e.ânM 

They  were  ail  very  jollygirls,  excepl  thî  three  eldest  whn 
S;.Sl,r  °  ""Provd  upon  acquaintance  hefoundriH? 

That  evening's  post  brought  him  a  letter      He  tumeH 
cold  as^he  Içoked  at  it-FraSce's  bold.  firm  hând  and^îf 
seal  and  crest  of  the  Forresters.     It  looked  big  and  square 
?^^4^crosL*^  altogether  formidable.    sSllît  Zt  £, 
C^rT  f  °f '^  P*«^^  *'  ^^  '^^t'  ^  thought  with  a  KToan 

t^ng  oTthe^^i^S^lPP^r"^  °'i"^'^^'"«  ^'^^^  -"^' 
SworaZÏhr    ?^     ?®  °P^"^^  "•    îtconsisted  of  ' 
tnree  words—three  of  the  shortest  in  the  language  : 

TafjulMi    Affectionately.  ^ 


'■*r» 


"Frahcb.»' 


"'''^^- 


.'        3. 

;  ■#■■     -- 

,.    w  ■ 

f    '■' 

' 

• 

-•h 

iL  ■  :^-- 

'■•'".  "'ïW<'''''^^ÏT'^^^fP"^ 


^K 


''5 


^^ 


ÏCHAPTÈR  IX. 

/      TELLINO  TERRY. 

I  rence  Dennison  to  the  Abbey.  Lady  Dvi^vZ 

of  Terry.  It  was  not  Terryfshe  feal^^JEÏ  approach 
had  t4  tell  Terry,  that  wS  haH  il^^^^î.** '^'''*=^  ^''« 
destroyed  her  \^kce  of  n  n5  ^'^Kl^'"^'*%fe"science, 
lifr  fnr  iL  /^^  °*  ""°P»  embittered  e^ki^v  of  h*.r 
We  for  thfe  past  suteen  yeaite     A  secret  th^t^S.- 

wronged  but  one  fciw  c  •   t  "    1^  , Jf  *\''*<'  "'"'*'">' 


•  /■,»  ■  ■■ 
V 


-^  ^    -^  ^^ 


#■    ^ 


TELLING  TEARY. 


^ 


i6 


1 


morse  that  never  left  her,  thatt)reycd  on  health  of  bodvand 


to  be  borne  no  longer— this  even- 
^told;   then,  conie  what  might,  her 


her  guîk  was  a 
ing  tbe  truth 
conscience  wi 

prS  'S  1i^^*?^y'>™«»Î!?«Iy  hard,  only  her, 
k    K    A  y       tI^^^®  ^^'^^^  not  th  nk   of    her  dead 

she  dared  not  th^îf^ier  son,  and  of  the  passionate^!;; 
and  reproach  with  which  he  would  overwhelni  her  .Œ 

the  loyal,  true-hearted  lad.  who  trusted  her  so  utterly.^ho 
beheved  m  her  so  implicitly,  whose  affection  and  Stude 
were  so  profound.  On  ail  sides  the  path  was  bSt  whh 
thorns,  but  the  path  niust  be  trodden.  ^^^"x^^et  with 


*..'-ii 


n^^f^hé  «ep  for  which  she  waited  and  watched.     There 
c^me  a  tap  at  the^loor.    A  moment  she  paused    o  Ather 

^oTeïtered^'"'  "^""^  "'"  '""^  ^'^  ^aiStly,  and'éfnt 

'^obkurit' of  thf  ï  'r?  t^«  «hadow^e  curtains.  In  the 
ODScurity  of  the  twiht  room  he  cÉHKnot  see  the  fixerf 
pallor  of  her  face  ;  yet  something  inWmann^r?  as  she  II 
there  startled  him      He  advancfd  and  toTher  h^d   '     ' 

"You'are  notnrJ'"^^'"^  "^"^^'"  '^^  *"-°"^^X  asked. 

âZn  T  "^^  "y  ''^^  ^nswered,  in  that  faint  voice.     «  Sit 

îu    ùl^"^'   ,1  ^"^  «°"'«  *o  telf  yo"  a  story  to-night     I 

a  wit^!f  *?¥  ^.°"  ^°"8  ^°'  '^"t  ^  *^*^«  beeJ  ^  côwJrdi 
a  weak  and  mçked  coward-and  I  dared  not~I  dared  not." 

He  seated  himself  on  a  hassock  at  her  feet,  andlooked  un 
at  her  m  silent  w<^der  and  alarm.      -  ^ 

"Jou  baye  trusted  me,  Teny,  beeri  grateful  to  me 
loved  me.  Ah  !  i^rpoof  boy  I  that  trust  and  love  of  yo"« 
hâve  been  bitter  tobito.    I  h^ive deservyl  n«»ir-  '   '     ^ 


•"Lady  Dynelyl"  ^^ 


M' 


■-*v> 


«1.   «w^  \ 


ï^ 


:i. 


a- 


4  . 


164 


TELLWG  TERRr. 


$  -■:' 


*  ,.  "  I  ï»a*^e  prayed  for  strength,"  she  went  on  «hnt  s».,.*.^!. 

ceaied   the   truth,  attd  ffone  on  in  K^rr/./»!,  ««^  ^ 

you  from  first  to  last."  ^'^'^  ^"*^  wronged 

consteSon^'-DTj''^^^^  P^'"^^^'"  ^^  exclaims,  in 

f_„^ *,  ""^'•^'^  sanre  it  sounds  from  your  lins.     A  Hic 

ta„.^  connecnon  of  n,y  U.e  husband  1    TeVyS  a^e  hi," 

"  Lady  Dynely  I  " 
«Hwson,Terry-.hiseldersonI"    ^ 


/■ 


:.r 


r- 


% 


TELLING   TERRY. 


ê 


165 


He  dropped  his  face  in  his  hands  like  a  man  stunned  by  a 
blow.  There  are  few  men,  even  the  worst,  who  do  not  ver»' 
erate  more  or  less,  the  nieinory  of  their  mothers.  To  Terry's 
simple  soûl  she  had  been  a  tender,  idealizei^  memory — to 
keep  in  his  heart  of  hearts,  to  speak  of  never.  And  now  his 
iather  had  been  Lord  Dynely  1 

"  Lady  Dynely,"  he  said,  huskily,  "  why  bave  you  tol^  me 
this?" 

She  laid  her  hand  upon  his  bowed  head. 

"  It  is  not  as  you  think,  Terry,"  she  sàid,  sadly.  "I 
know  what  you  raean — it  is  not  that.  Your  mother  was 
Lord  Dynely*  s  wife,  as  truly  as  ever  I  was.  You  are  I.,ord 
Dynely's  son,  as  truly  as  Eric  is.  More — you  are  Lord 
Dynely's  heir." 

He  scarcely  heard  the  last  words,  so  swift  and  great  a 
rush  of  joy  and  thankfulness  flooded  his  heart  at  the  first 

"  Thank  Heaven  !  "  she  heard  him  whisper  ;  "Mo/  would 
bave  been  hard  to  Isear.  But — Lord  Dynely's  son!  Oh, 
Lady  Dynely,  pardon  me,  but  I  find  this  very  hard  to  be- 
lieve." 

"  It  is  a  surprise,  no  doubt.  But  do  you  fully  understand, 
Terry? — You  are  not  only  Lord  Dynely's  son,  but  Lord 
Dynely's  heir." 

"  His  heir  ?  "  he  repeated,  bewildered. 

"  You  are  three  years  older  than  Eric.  Do  you  not  see  ? 
Your  mother  was  Lord  Dynely's  wife  ;  you  are  not  Terrence 
Dennison,  but  Viscount  Dynely." 

He  lifted  his  head  and  looked  at  her,  a  sort  of  horror  in 
his  eyes.     "  And  Eric  is — what  ?  " 

"  Yes — what  ?  "  Eric's  ti^other  cried,  wildly.  "  He  is  Eric 
Hamilton — the  youngcr  son,  with  a  portion  about  half  of 
what  he  spends  yearly  for  cigarettes  and  bouquets.  You  are 
the  heir  and  the  lord  of  the  land  ;  he  is  the  younger  son  and 
brother.  That  is  the  secret  I  learned  to  my  cost  sixteen 
years  ago,  by  y9ur  father's  death-bed — the  secret  of  my  so- 
called  generosity  to  you,  the  secret  that  has  poisoned  and 
blighted  my  whole  life.  If  I  had  been  as  strong  in  my^ 
wickedness  as  ï  am  weak,  I  would  bave  kept  it  to  the  end  ; 
but  that  I  could  not  do.     It  is  told  ;  a  load  is  off  my  soûl  at 

J.      . 


'^    Â 


,.)», 


) 


"i  -rï*/^ 


^Jlh 


r 


':^^4 


i66 


TBLLING  TERRY. 


k-W-ul 


^ 


.,    JSf^^P"  ^"°^  *»»«  t™*'  ^"d  ray  son  and  I  are  at  you, 

Then  there  was  long  and  deep  silence  in  the  room  She 
was  suting  upright  in  her  chait.  her  face  gleam  nglt  lie 
marble  m  the  gray  gloon,  her  slender  hands  cleKd  tc^ 

.Çto  "a^nS  ^^'6r"n'^  ^^  ^"k'  ""'^^'^^  '°°^^"S  A^" 
into  vacanc>.     ïor  Dennison,  hëvsat  stunned,   absolutelv 

stunned,  trymg  with  his  whole  might  to  realizê  thi       S  J 

-notTe^ n'"' •    ^'  Y'^.  ^^"^'y'«  ^^^-^  -"' "^  heir- 
—not   Tepry  Dennison,  the  dépendant,  the  poor  relation 

but  a  pe<H:  of  the  realm.!     Erjc,  lordly  EricVhis  tSunge; 

brother,  with  no  claim  to  the  title  he  bo?e,  to  the  thSds 

he  squandered  I     Not  a  po«rerful  mind  at  any  tirae,  ne^er  a 

ll^rh'd'^ol'""  ''  '"^  ""^"^  ^"^  ^^^'-^  --  -  "^"^ 

daill  bLTdenLît?"^  ''"  ""  ^'^  ^^'  '""^^  '^  -^>  ^  ^» 
She  drew  a  long,  heavy  brealh,  and  set  herself  to  thetask 
Ihe  worst  had  been  told-it  was  bitter  alniost  as  the  bitter: 
ness  of  death  and  yet  it  was  easier  ^elling  Ter^r  than  telHn; 
most  men.  Her  secret  had  weighed  upJn  her  so  lonf  or? 
rS^rjadr  '"'  tf'-t^heabXtelyfeltaSeof 

Ji'^u^^  T-  ^"fr  ^^^  '•epeated;  «it  seems  very  little  to 

tell  when  ail  ,s  told.     I  suppose  most  of  life's  tragédies  can 

be  to  d  m  fcw  words-this  certainly.     On  the  nightof  lS3 

Dynel/s  death-sixteen  years  ago  this  very  night  •  was  k 

not  fit  to  choose  that  anniversary  ?_1  leame^d  itlrst'nmelf 

I  recall  that  n.ght  so  well-like  io  other  in  ail  my  life  ^Mv 

cousm  had  corne  to  me-you  hâve  heard  of  hiîi  Sordon 

Caryl    poor  fellow  !-to  tell  me  his  story:     It  was  â  bSw 

moon.ghtn.ght     Ann-in-arm  we  walked  rou^  the  fish 

pond,'S^hae  he  told  me  his  life's  tragedy,  in  brief  bit  er 

words      I  see  it  ail."  Ihe  said,  lookîng  before  her^dth  dewv 

eyes  her  vo.ce  softening.  "  like  a  picture.    The  XeS 

of  the  moon  the  long,  black  shadows.  the  fish-pond  likfa 

tJieet  of  circular  glass,  the  scent  of  the  flowers,  and  the  ct^l! 

.^s^M  evenini^  ^nd.    There  hc^d  go^!g>  Jl^tuS  to 

Tëïï  me.  my  poor  d;,rdôn  |  and  I  hîîve  nevS^^enS^n^! 


V 


1% 


~  .'^<y4  KaI^^'^T"' 


^1^  »  *V  '^  '    fit^  ^y  ^ 


■^y  "^i^?'  *  ''V  s  ,;   "'"'^f^f^/y^ 


•i^i^M 


\ 


'^TÊLLING    TERRY. 


167 


^J-„.,« 

>-•  , . 

I 

..  1 

^^k\^^^^.L 

That  mai),  LocksIey,'*reniinds  me  of  him  somehow  ;  my  heart 
warms  ta  him  whenever  we  r^çeet  for  tbat  chance  resem- 
blance."  '  . 

She  paused.  She  had  drilted  from  fhe  thread  of  her  story, 
îhinking  of  the  soldier  cousin  from  whom  she  had  parted 
this  night  sixteen  years  ago. 

"He  left  me)^' *e  continued,  after  that  pause,  "and  I 
still  lingered  out  there,  thinking  what  a  mistake  life  was  for 
most  of  us,  how  we  seem  to  miss  the  right  path,  where  happi- 
ness  lies,  and  jlove  j|nd  ambition  alike  lead  us  aslray.  He 
had  married  fOr  love — I/jpr  ambition  ;  the  end  was  the  sariie 
to  both — darkest,  bittefest  disappointment.  I  had  never 
cared  for  Lord  Dynely  ;  he  was  many  years  my  senior,  and, 
though  I  never  was  a  sentimental  girl,  ail  the  liking  1  ever 
had  to  give  had  been  given  to  Gordon  Caisyll.  I  had  to  do 
my  duty  as  a  wife  in  ail  things,  but  I  was  not  a  happy  wife, 
had  never  been  ;  and,  when  they  brought  me  word  my  hus- 
band  had  met  with  an  accident  and  lay  dying,  it  was  the  hor- 
ror  we  feel  for  the  raerest  stranger  who  meets  a  tragic  end 
that  filled  me,  not  the  despairihg  sorrow  of  a  loving  wife. 

"  I  hastened  to  him.  He  lay  dyii^g  indeed — life  was  but 
just  there  when  I  reacked  him.  *  Baifhe  was  a  man  of  most 
resolute  will  ;  he  would  not  die  until  he  had  seen  me.  He 
had  been  very  fond  of  mc^^ah,  yes  I  I  never  doubted  that, 
in  his  own  selfish»  passionate  way,  he  ifàs  very  fond  of  his 
wife.  He  had  ppared  himself  ail  his  life,  but  now  that  he 
lay  dying  he  would  not  spare  me.  Thorough  and  utter 
selfishness  has  ever  been  the  chief  chai|>cteristic  of  his  race  - 
—I  wonder  sometimes,  Terry,  how  you  managed  to 
escape." 

She  paused  again  and  sighed.    She  was  thinking  of  her 
son.    Blindly,  devotedly  as  she  loved  and  admired  him,  she 
could  not  be  utterly  blind  to  his  faults.     Thoroughly  and  ab^  - 
solutely  selfish  ail  the  Dynelys  had  been,  thoroughly  and  ut- 
terly  selfish  was  the  last  Lord  Dynely. 

"As  I  knelt  by  his  bedside  there,  Teny,  he  told  me  in 

Jc»^^ d  broken  jentencesihe  snd  nnd  sharocfai  gtory.     la 

his  wanderings  through  Galway  he  had  met  Maureen  Gan- 
non,  a  dark,  Spanish-looking  bcauty,  as  many  of  thèse  Gal- 


■'S 

-M 

--1 


i68 


TELLING  TERn  Y. 


■ 


»oo,her  .rai.  of  his  Jj,  ^  ,„  hâve  es^^e^  a„d  L  S 
trie  to  hâve  inhemeA  You  kno«- whAqrish  S  ïïe-^h, 
pure3t  «romen  underhçavCT— love.malrir,.ïh?,^M  "f'"= 
marriace  waa  nrfr  ™. j„T        if  "lalciDg  that  did  not  œtan 

such  an  old  story— hot  fancy  at  ârst,  cooling  fancv  after 

She  d.ed,  and  you  were  lefl,  and  Lord  Dynely  wa?fr~  m 
woo  and  wm  another.  ■^ynciy  was  tree  to 

of  h?.  Ô1*K  M  •"■    Of  thegirl  whose  heaft  he  had  b.x>Icen 
Hriftf?*  ''V*°'u  °°  î°^'  ''^  '^«'^  no  steps  about  you  he  iust 


<9«»«~«y.;High^^ne  ibougfit  îhat  in  someother  world^ 


m 


J4 


,*>• 


isF^'^i^ 


T'-^ 


,A    i' 


^^ 


*  t 


TELLING   TERRY. 


169 


might  hâve  to  atone  for  the  crimes  of  this,  he  tixmed  coward 
—once  more  self  became  his  first  tliotiUt  Whn^^^i  v 
ipatter  what  became  'of  Eric  or  ml  i,.    î  ÎV        ""'  t"^  '^ 

.a»  might  p,ck  a  flaw  ia  an  Irish  marri^fae  ftat  bat 
nivhea«„;K^;'..''1" '','""';  l»'  <^er  did  not  share 


laike 


«  w  *^!?- >  ^  *''^'"  ^^  ariswered  sadly. 


H" 


» 


ton  t  do  it  ;  you  must    l'won't  r 


see  jugtice  d<JHfe  —f- 


'-'?{■' 


huii  ri^htea  b£fore  'thJmc 

--Ilot,  ta  save  his  life  qiwfeirfs  rritebu.iv''«»ï'- 

iîiiL  5'^  ^^^""^  ^'^^^h  rattle  sounded.     H  s 
l^hastly  threat  on  my  fac^  when  thè  fil.u 
rjnetù.     1  retvember  no  mpî^.,    Some  onp 
to  me,  and  I  feU  back  ildalI^^dS 


|2jr%  bufi^  hira,  and  Eric  and  I  went 


,  »  ■» 


..  %vly  fierçe  VebeHion^S"aSi^,f  ^^^^  f  ™-'"-g. 

f^ey  put  up-  a  marblé    table    recordSh,?;^  ^^'^ 

w      qbmest  c  virtues.  ahrl  t,n/i«r  fi!      ,  ^9'^"'"g   nis  Social   and 

r  follim  kim^  xu  ""^««^^the  glowing  record,\.'^/j  œ,^^^ 

uo  jouow  ntm.      Ahj  yes,  they  foilowed  hiin     Jri  Wtf 

u        and  remorsé  and'shame      i  J^r.^Au        ^  """—'"  oltterness 

hollow  satire  of  it  alf    I*  hi.l      ^''•^  Y'^^^^  ^'^'^  «i  f^e 

terror.     I  believe  tK.L„i!:  T    i^^u  °^^  ^^  ^'  *""es  with 

The  resfyou  i^ol:"^::!:^^:^^^^-^^^^.. 


% 


pakered  w.th  the  truth.    As  my  om,  son  vou  s 

tion  '  rf'î!!:  ''^^'■^  ^"  '^«  advTntTgeH 
T^\a  ^''^^  P^^»"  Terry,  much  I  ^ 
could  not  gi^The  horror  and  hàtred 
to  fe.;l  forgrWPather  I  was  wicked  enoV 

woul'd  Si!  ''°"^'^''  ^''''^'''  ^"^^^  I  ^«^ 


isaence^ 
>e  rvared 
ny  rffec- 

«ved  il^  I 
:ed  euough 

1  for  you. 

myself  I 
?asyand  ^ 


1 


A 


■  \ 


,Jîa^Mw:4.\^  V-v^îL    ,\\yr*s^  ««''.v  t\il«r^  w»  \\  !       \    \  *     ^\ 


V 


)    ». 


> 
^•■w-^ 


:'  \  ■  \» 


¥? 


TELLTNG  TERRY.    . 

an  Irish  pcasant  gir"-his  1  fe  ,^^^^^^^  ?  1°"'  ^^e  son  of 

I  wo^ld  nof  tell  the  tmth   ^  '''  and  sensual  father. 

in  a  fbw  dayài^FraS  f "o  Se  hS wife  fhe  "?r"*/.^"'^'^ 
shire  yours.  I  vowed  I  wouW  n^l  *  n  '  ""/t^''*  '"  Lincoln- 
hâve  prayed  passlonâ?e  r^h!?  "^  *^"'  ^  ^  ^«^  telling.     I 

That   strength  has  been  S 1  "  !'^\^*^«''g''^  »«  do  it. 
donc.     You  know  thelr,f!h^       T  ^'  'ast— my  duty  w 
long  you  hâve  Sien  wfS^Jd^nT  1?^™^""^  ail  your  Ife 
-fapersLordDyneryleû     f^^^  Hère  are  thc 

in  any  <;ourt  in  Eng  and      aTi  ^thT'^"^  '°  ""^P^^^  ^"^^  «t°'-y 

EnV:7as":nt^a:i:?  tVeîce 'il  ^''- .  ''^^  ^"^  ^  -" 
would  do  battle  to^he  ilfth  wS^S**^^  Pf°'"'''  '^°'«' «^^ 
would,  in  his  stormy^^lfich  wir^  ''  '"J^rloperi  ho^  he 
the  mother.  Ha"e' £  i  I^'L'"rf  *?"  ^"^'^"^  ^"^  hâte 
and  selfish  men  are  «i^d  h^'tii  Y^  ^''"«J  your  weak 
not  held  her  ton%.f?!?ho^  darS^'T  ^''>;  ^ad  she 
were  the  cowardly  dyine  fea«  T.  ^H- «P^^k ?_what 
to  his  birthright?    Wa^^tWaT^r        Z^''.  tjousand  fathers 

Let  it  end  hlw  kZht  h^vroS/T''^f  ^^''  ^^'  «'»' 
see  her  foce  àffaM^oTl  u  ^  "^^^''  ^«'"g've  her,  never 

«*e  kné^haîff  sa^tere     '^^ 

îbughtiahèrbit^r^3e^i"i±^JÏ^         Even  fee,  she. 
Andthisis.whatitwastrdoreÏÏâ^ 

«w  ottUiie  of  her  WeLd 'SJ'^^  ^^«  but  — 


M 


■kfr. 


*-*^ 


<*'^ 


\,4  '-*-.'■         : 

..*v  ^    \-J^.'  ..»,.■»     -vif    '''■    '.  •         l''^ 


«1  s  .. 


^■**t£ 


-^4 


.1?. 


fi' 


J-> 


/T.' 


-r7)2 


IH*f<j; 


<  -^   ^'Ji 


TELLim  TERRY, 


-AJ 


*ll  don't  know  what  td  sav  vet  "  h*.  »*;.»««    :  ? 

Btrained  voice,  that  did  Lt  Und  like  xfrv's      ^lT\ 

SÎiHed  hL'  ^n^  î^  5^"^-<^°"<:f aled  dislike  had  repelled  a^" 
"Angry  with  you  I»   she  said,  with   a  sob      "Oh  mv 

«0  you  in  trouble.     AU  wiU  ko  wej  «,      fL    irJ^Ï  '" 
notknow.of  course?»     ■""»""""  ^et-    Ehc— Enc<Jee« 

^|^Nptyetl„h,„oeyetl    îîtowffl  be  the  harfest  lo  bear^ 


ACotfaer''  he 


saîd,  and  love  madéTenys  voice  like  an 

\ 


TELLim  T^RRY.   ' 


'73 


1  ûen  he  arose  soïûy  and  left  her.  '««^«ver- 


■;;, 


<i 


%i 


i^' 


.1 


41^  ■ 


},  "*'<è. 


t 


'  nr-j 


F-- 

-m 


^0^^^ 


5%    *>ï 


CHAPTER  IX. 


% 


rf 


THINKING  IT  OUT. 

ÏHAT  night,   for  the  first  tiine   in    the  four-ànd-  ' 
twer.ty  years  ofhis  Kfe,  Terry  DennisonJÉLup  until 
the  "  wee  sma'  hours  ayont  the  twal,"  â^thought.- 
,,,  Thought  !— of  ail  novel  expériences,  this  surely  was 

rZ  "'^^  "°^^*  '"  ^^^^  supremely  thoughtless  young  man's 
V  J'«'-%?^he  good  or  the  evil  of  ïerry's  life,  and  there  had 
been  much  of  both,  had  alike  beeiV  unpremeditated  ;  in  ail 
things  he  had  atted  naturally  and  involuntarily,  and'with- 
,  outthmkingof  it  tisçforeharid.  Now  in  à  moment  le  was 
^Iled  upon  to 'lèttlè^the  destinifs  of  four  lives— his  own, 
*^"cs,^dy  Dynely-s  and  littje  Crystal's.  A  sort  of  smile 
^'l'r  m  !".** #^  ^5  ^^  *ought  of  it-he  the  arbitrator  of 
bnlhanf^ic's  ^hole  future  life— he,  Terry. 

.But  the  smile  quickly  faded  as/he  eikered  the  room  and 
S    *feii^.^^''^^  '^^'"  ^^yshiR  hadgfiven  him  down  upon 
«le  tabl|^2riooked  at  tpyellow  p^r,  théTaded  writini?. 
lhefaiher#ho  had  wrongèd  hîni  so  greajsl^  whd^had' so  > 
irreparâbly  wronged   his^«teç,   arfd  writtei^^liis— ha^ 

jceiiffièn  tliat  justice  couidnb  longer 
servéd  Sàtân  ail  his  life,  and  would 
ave|  at  the  last,  at  any  sacrifice  to 
,  ^  had  lived  a  life  of  sin  and  sensual- 

ism,  and  would  offer  the  dregsof  that  bad  life  to  his  Crea- 
tor, rhere  was  more  a  feeling  of  disgust  in  Terrys  breast 
than  any  othçf .  as  he  looked  at  the  faded  writïng  and 
thought  of  hun  who  had  written  it,  dust  and  ashes  years 
ago.  \        / 

.   r " Ane  flis  Works  do  follow  him!" 
"He  sat  down  and  looked  blanklv before  him.  '  HÀ 


striven  to  dp  him  juj 
ajjnoy  himself.     Hé 
make  his  peace  witï 
those  lefb^ehind. 


î»îï^^nëÇT=ëH^"sdn7"lon^^rpS^i^^^^S 


jgM>- 


-m 


;;^Vi^p5*^p^,-i 


THINKINÔ  IT  OVT. 


175 


Xerry  Dennison,  a  dépendant  on  a  great  lady's  bounty.  but 
Visrount  Dynely,  with  estâtes  and  mansions  in  haf  a 
dozencounties,a,^la  at  Ryde,  à  rent-roll  as  long  as  hi' 

)^Tf\  ^"r^  ^^  ^^^  "^^^^  ^•■3^'^*^''  Lady  Dynely.     His 
face  flushed  for  a  moment  at  that.     AH  that  might  be  snrea.| 
beforehim,  aglittenng  vista.     He    was  one  of  the  teas 
mercenary  of  men.  but  he  had  lived  too  long  in  the  world 
nôt  to  know  the  great  and  utter  change  it  would  make  in 

^'    nL     ^?'  .K   ^^  ?\  ^^^-  °'''^'*  *"^^^  •"  ^he  United  Kingdom, 

one  of  the  noblest  mcOmes-that   is  what  he  was  Salled 

K§   1,?  clam,  or  resign  to-night.     For  a  moment,  as  he 

^loligh    of  it,  h.s  heart  beat  quick.     He  was  very  human 

^    after  ail,  and  th.â  was  no  child's  toy  he  must  lay- clown  or 

^    t:ike   u,,.     Men   called   Terry  Dennison   a   good   fellow^ 

"  ï.«r  *J"T'^  f"''  P^'^î^P^'  '^"^  ^  &°°^>  f--Ho^v  ail  the 
,  A  f.^!P«.- . -"e,  haa  few  enemies  and  many  friends,  but  in  their 
^yMik»ng  for  hnn   there  was   more  or  less   blended  a  slight 

i»hade  orcontempt      He  was  one  of  them,  but  not  of  thein. 

,  HiShwnners  and  habits  were  primitive  to  a  de^rree  He 
wasn  t  a  "  plunger,"  as  they  were  to  a  man  ;  didn't  drink  to 
speak  of;  duln't  ga.nble  at  ail;  hunted  down  no  u^.^n! 
^1  panied  or  single,  toher  own  destruction.  He,*ras  behind 
Sn,^'  »",^»,  th«s^  things.  in  a  most  remark^^e^^^^^^ 
StiU  men  hked  hinj,  and  laughed  with  Terry,  anïïBrerrv' 
and  neyer  carried  their  laughter  too  far.  HeSBie  soui 
of  good-nature,  but  there  was  that  in  his  six  f^TstatL 
his  tramed  muscles,  and  scientific  British  way  of  "hittlic 

--^n!!  Ta^^"-  ^'°'"  V*^^   shoulder,"   on  occasions,  that  coK 
'--^manded  respect.     In  the  annual  battles  betwêen  "  ToTn 

'^£«^'^'V  ^n^'S''^'  ^^""'«O"  had  ever  been  a  hostlf 
^2L  Jr.  ^"  ,^^hletic  and  field  sports  he  stood  his  own 
vith  the  best  of  hem.  He  was  a  "mighty  hunter  before  the 
Jord,  down  m  the  shires  ;  but  in  the  ball-room  and  the  bou- 
doir, ^  court  and  at  courting,  Terry  was  decidedly  a  failure. 
He  never  lost  his  heart  for  barronne  or  ballerîna,  duchess  or 
âctress;  he  ran  away  with  no  raan's  wife,  wasn't  a  fascina- 


.tdSSt?ï         T  ^^^yjT^'-^  «"a^y  too.  and  generosîtT 
•tood  chief  among  them.    To  give  pain  to  a  womaii,  to  any 


4 


„  f 


-  m. 

4». 


^»7  -     ^ 


i  Jf 


^sr-im 


y. 


», 


n, 


f0- 


'%i  -;iv 


P    ■■  ■  ■  ■ 


/  ■     .^ 

Pi 

""■■'v'    1 

■7ÎK  •;■■'■' 

176 


THINKING  IT  OVT. 


T^ady  Dynely's  heart  "^^  "'''"'''  '""?>/  break 

serve  to  be  loved    Sd  FH^  h     *"."'  ^'  ^''^^  '°"«  ^^^^  de- 

commandof  aselfish?nH?J      5f  ^^'^^t^'y.  and  at  the 
birthright  to  rsttge^and   bli^^^^^  °^«^  »'''' 

Dynely  had  asked  foo  mnl     ?      ''''  "'''°'''  ^'^^  ?     Lord 

Wby,  she  migh  haveîeft  Wn^aîrh'^'TP^'  ^,"'  "°^  ^^  ^er. 
tered  life  of  a  ^anT  Wh„  .¥  °"'  '^e  wretched.  unlet- 
wiser?  But  she^adTcome  for  h^"  ^f^  ^^^^  ^«*^"  ^^e 
by  hin,  as  her  own  son  Ind  no  '  f  ^"^  ' "  .^"  '^'"g«  ^«"e 
ail,  and.  at  ail  cost  to  herlëlf  w.^'      i''''  ''^^  ^^^  ^°'^  ^"n 

ofherwords.     Thenl'Z^4b"trdriftert:  ï^^^^  'V""''' 
tnc's  rage  and  furv  as  i>la,ni         °""^"  ^o  Itric.      He  saw 

table,  th?  blue  ey7s  Lrid  w^rh  ^'  ''^f  ^  *'^^  P^l>«'-  o"  the 

the  death,  woul§  contes"  evt^'neh^TfC''  '°  Y''^  *° 
syrapathy  would  be  with  Frir.  "'11        ^    "'^  ground.     'l'he 

were  Edc's  ;-,.hat  chance  would  he  tZr%t  '"^^1 
be  an  endless  chancerv  sm>  th«  f    ^  ^"^''^  '^'^"•fJ 

the  scandai,  the  informZ  TrT.h        '^'"gdom  >vould  ring  with 

of  a  sacrifice  to  him  HrhoH  ^'  u- '  '^^"^^  ^^«-y  ^'ttlfi 
was.  I  bave  sa  d  a  m^.f  vîf  "^  "P  ^'"bHion  whatever_he 
he  held  irSnteTh  r^'S  V^  young  man.  Life  a^ 
hundied  a  year  and  Ci^;»»!^     K- *'  ^f™""ssioa,  his  five 


^-•^^- 


e: 


P^: 


■  ■.  r 


■■s 


THINKING  IT  OUT. 


'77 
With  a  long-drawn  breath  he  broke  froS  bis  rêverie  •  whi, 

Terry-s  wholî  ^oni  il   ^^  V^  *®"^^''  confession,  and 


#' 


tr'"  \ 


„"     .'^A^;*:. 


if      % 


V¥. 


-*, 


■>?  '  ' 


■*<|awa 


^'^^ 


•f^i-* 


:<.^^i 


fÊ" 


iiSi* 


178 


THINKING  IT  OVT, 


hef 'chS^r^T  ^^^r-S^f  S  -,„*and  holding  U, 

sOMnd  SLè     "I^''-''"  ■''J'  '■!»»  '«-bled,  ^^Xy  a  husk^ 
in  "rjfÏÏl'^f'Sv  td'rer""'"''  E,°'*"«  "<"'■  "a»*  fa=' 

we  ,  Eric  too  well  »v,.,  "  ' j™"»™  1"=;     I  loved  you  too     *» 
.ou"l?edr,o"acterof1hr'   ^- T^- ^'^^k  .-..'and     ' 

Word,  and  there  w;retL,hi.,!/^  J  ^^S^^  ' 

blue  eves  .  ThL  .  ,  ^  and.bnght  m  Terry's  ibAnd 


fi 


a 


■  X'i^M^i  4I   *fiA        d 


7* 


)lk  _"s     "   <*»'>»    >w  rv^  ' ^y*^  ' '■'^^ 


ï 


I*-,  * 


'  r 


'    '    ^      THINKINà  IT  OUT.'  ...        ,- 

Terry  laughed.;  It  was  ail  very  solemn,  but  f.he  idea  of 
1  ef  y  Dennison  m  the  rôle  of  angel,  tickled  the  dragoon^ 
'^it:;^::^^:,:^'"'''''''^  ^-^  ^'^^^  .-.y  schoolboy^.au,^ 

"  \  n^^  ^  ."'.  P^'*^''»  ^^^y  Dynely,"  Terry  sdid,  strugclintr 
nianfully  w.th  that  explosion  ;  "  tha/s  a  little  too  gôod^^You 
are  the  first  I  g.ve  you  n,y  word,  who  ever  accused  me  o 
angel.c  qual.t.es.  And  I  don't  deserve  it-oh,  I  assure  you 
I  don  t— it  isn't  any  sacrifice  to  me.  I  am  not  an  am 
.  bmous  sort  of  fellosv,  nor  a  clever  fellow,  nor  a  briufant  fe  - 
mv  hke  Enc.  As  a  dragoon,  with  five  hundrcd  a  year  and 
the  dearest  httle  g,rl  n.  England  for  my  wife,  I  ,nA  round 
peg  fit  nig  neat  and  trim  m  a  round  hole.     As  a  noLn  â 

rttlld  be"irT"'  "V'  '">'  "'''''''  "'^^^^  burines!  to  de; 
i  would  be  an  object  ofjjity  to  gods  and  men.     Eric  was 

f    ^.],a  d^h^g  of  fbrtunef  1  was  born-phu.»  Terry  ï^m^î! 

^^She  looked  a|,  hiei  with  sad,  yfearning,   wondering  tves 
Her  armsst.ll  Ipos.ly  clasped  .tàs  neck  .s  Ke  knelt^before 

,  .K  ""î''^Ll\T'^'-'-y, Dennison  !  "  she  repeated  ;   "Terry.  you  a.«. 

'  the  s  tuff  heroe^  are  ,,,ade  of     Eric  ifnot  IIK.  >.n        h  \t 

he  only  were  !     VVhere  did  you  get  thi.  gei^tMOunVut   th,s 

•  frJ'  ^^'^^^'^^i!  «7'  ^^y^-^-  ?    V^have  you,  fatheTs  foc 
ay  you  are  Iike  h.ni  to  tl^e  very  ifoi  of  h>s  hair.     You  hLc 
his  face— Ew,  I  fear— Ifear  hiS^heart  " 

nnl'.?il'  ^'iî   '"'"''  ^^^.  ^   bad  ft$lUnv."    responded   Trrrt        %^ 
uneasiiy      He  jvas  i),»cônimonly  fond  of  Lady  DynHy   buk^ 
.he  was  onry  a  man,  and  the  heroics  were  ieconuL  a  litt^  ^ 

^  ail  be  as  though  you  had  never  told,  as  though  I  we,^  in  % 

.  r«il.ty.wh4  I  hâve  ail  aloiig  considered  mys<^_a  disTanî 
,  connection  of  a  very  grand  /aafilj:      If-!''TerrV2s  he^ 
drooM  a  little  ^nd  his  color 'rotti!"  if  jf  n,akes  vou  S.'*"^  ^  ,P 
^  httle  fonder  of  ir^.  Lady  DySSy.  t^Jn  as  the  20^70^    ''''     "' 
c^  novels  safy,  «  I  sl^U  not  hâve  lalLred  i^  vain.'  "^      -^  "  •     '^ 

^_Vfondly«5heTi^nffl^eki^dE^  1     \     ^'S 

Who  could  hdp  being.fpndof  >'ou,^eîr/?    Thatgiri^ 


■>' 


«a  /• 


■>'t, 


««dlLl.  .. 


■  .-é^"' 


.,»- 


^' 


m 


?4^r75f  ■»ii'^«*S*^ï!r-  jf^^y^^ 


i8o 


THINICING  IT  OUT. 


waited  so 


«^th  me  yet  a  fe^f  days  £.71?   .^'^  •  "  ^"'''"""S-     Stay 
I  am."      ^  "^'*  ^  ^^^^  ^^a'-ned  to  realize  ho«r  blessed 

long  a  fevv  ,«ore  days  will  not  sSnJfy  "  '"'"' 

-meantime  he  was  •'  Hers'al^d  ^S;""'^  '"""^"'  ^"^ 

shiningfthe  grass  ^j;;  as  green  as  thouth  >f  "l' J'^  """  ^^ 
and  varnished,  the  skv  ÏT  ^,V''«"gb  it  had  beeu  painted 

?ky.  Terry  thonglu  ;  andl^^  fa^i  t?'  ^  ^'°"^-     ^o  was  his 

acrossônthe  opposite  oKhi-nn^' ?  l  """?  ^'"'"^^  stretched 
waswhirledawaVto'surlitv'arfge'"  -'-y  carriage,  he 

"  wu°I  he  would  a  wooing  go 
Whether  his  mother  woufdS  him  or  no  " 

1  wonder  what  niy  precious  litt\^  „;  i  •  if^  ^'^^graph. 
And,  by  the  bye.  I  sloSTke  tô  f  ''  u*"""*  J"stnoV! 
corne  home.     Egad  1     TVh^  1 1  *,°.H"o«^  why  Erir    - 


i- 


CHAPTERXL 

AT  THE  PICNia  / 

'^r^^^^^t:!^::  ^8«^  afternoon 

.  ^   ^     made  his  way  into  the  vi-^^  "  r""  ^""^^  ^"<^ 

wuh  double  roses,  and  ZVysuckh^ll^{  ^l ^^'  ^"  ^^'^^« 
muni,  and  fuchsia,  and  the  sumni  '  '  ^^  ''^'■''^"^'  ^^^  ge-'a- 
of  perfuniê:'    AU  the  «  f^  ^"«""er  air  was  sweet  wik  Srifts 

stoodopen,buTi^'ll5:    'sTeî.:^^^^^^^^  ^^^  «Ï 

feet  darkened  the  parlor  doomaf  fh?^'  ^^'  ^''  '«^^^  '^^ 
that  apartment  looked  t,p  C  hl;  ï-  °"'^.  /><^<^»l>ant  o/ 
pnsed  scream.  u  was  he  ^  H  I  f  11'"^  "^'"^  ^  ""le  sur- 
three  elder  Misses  Hi^dns  "'  ^  ^"^^'^«^  of  the 

.i-or!      cried  Miss  Hiffeins   '«wh^f  -  *       ' 
Is  .t  yoû.  Terry  ?     Who'd  S'holmlf?    ?^°"  ^^^^  '^<^' 
see  1  w^sn't  exDectinff  -invK^Ji    ^  -'^'^    Cojne  in.     You 
-oflf  but  BehndaS  afe,  â^^5^  ^^'^^J^^^^d  ^U  the  rest  a^ 

'^oTi  ^f^'  ^^  -'  ofrwhere,  Arabe.Ia?". 
Philip  Carfuthei  Lo;d  Sel  T^  ^"  ^°"'^  '^"<^'    Sir 
stopping  at  the  tourna^  c^T' ^„?JP"'^°^  ^^^  gentremen 
rest  hâve  gone      I  anH  £^i^  o^SaniMd  a  mcnic,  and  ail  the 

Its  ai^«y,  t^^  way/^^r^  S^m'"  «J'"g.for  Crystal. . 
'  "  '  this  little  pig  i^T^^ufr^'t'  ""SS'hs,  bitterly  ; 

^or  a  «lonient—a  fl^»m^      ,       .     ^*^'  "^"skly. 
^i^p^^^^      „_  "■    '"3  t.ontrctoutpa;  now  it  was  ail  ngbl 

''    •    .  '  '    "  '       '  ' 


■  r 


î*' 


^ 


/  1-jflr    1^    ~  •r>*»-<||' 


-s^fv^i^m^'^. 


182 


AT  rm  pjcmc. 


"  AtCaritithers  Court,  of  cours*»  "P«iin  o  j  "    ' 

suppose.  .  »VhXw;?^e*  '""°  '"'^'^'^  """"'.  ' 

as  a"r:,:!tVfhrb"XSf''f '''^-^'A-'  "<"  ™icus. 
m  her  vestal  bosD.n  «îh^  tne  mi  le  of  luiman  kindness 
Tprry  wenMo  the  ^{cnic         "'"'  ^'""^  ^°  '^^'^  «^-'"S.  ^^' 

reachèdthefçstal^m.mrT  P°I'P'^'  ^^  t^^  ^ime  he 

dottêd  thè  swa  d  Mhëlin^r/'  ""^J"^^q"«es  everywhere 
'"usic  beheath  the  u,Um^^^^^  band  discou^sed  sweet 

dancing  and  oth^snortV^fT/^u^^^'   ^'"^^ery,  croquet, 
,  «ind  deligh'trwereSion      J^^-^.y°"^^^^^ 
girls  in,p4,  giris  •>  W  /and  greef  dôn^d'^'  ^'t  '"  ''"^J 
likegorgeous  posiez,  but  the  gTof  SrtVr'^^  i 

could  nowhere  belmjd.  «»  '*  "^  ^'^  neart  Mr.  Dennison 

''Ah,  Xerry,  niy  lad,"  said  the  Rev  Sami.^I  w     • 
tending  one  clérical  hand  in  a  hLt  fl'«    T  ,     ^'^^ms,  ex- 
y?"  ?     When  did  you  comêV"  ''^  ^'°^^'  "  ^°^  ^« 

''STand^^;^ 
gaged  in  archery  •  Co  nèha  .nH   v-";''""-^   ""'^  >^°"^«'''  ^n-        , 

was  with  me  a  moment  âgo     i^XJ\l  ^ti-?^J^^  ^^"^ 

'Tr;;:^^^'>;ï'^^^s^uer^^^      , 

1  saw  ijçiia.     Whére's  Crystàl  ?  "  ask^H  lUr  tS    .   • 
desperation.  "     .    .  ^SKea  Mr.  Dennison,  tn 


--  s 


7  - 


>,<;-■'■ 


"^^^tîf'^'lii'.'. 


'"'Ul-m* 


.♦' 


3    '  .  '  ,  „  '  <      'I  ' 


^r  TffE  PICNIC. 


183 


.ee_^CrystaI.     Elizabeth  Jane,  my  child.  wherë  is  Christa 

"  Criss/s  gone  off  for  a  «ail  with  Lord  Dyiiely,  i)â  "  an- 
swered  ma  pert  tone  the  seventh  Miss  Higgin^S  a  sl)ar^ 

Elizabeth  Jane  took  Mr.  Dennison's  ai#  and  led  hini 
,  bnskly  across  meadows,  down  woody  sl^^to  where  be 

Anithere,  ha  f-way  eut,  went'floating  a  little  white  boa  like 
;cf4"la7;iî'^'  ^"'  •"  ^'^^^  "^'^^  ^' -"g  gent,  Jnanllt 

'.'ThafsCriss,"said  ElizaTîeth  Jane,  sharply.  "  and  that's 
LordDynely  I  don't  know  what  LorS  DyneW's  fntentions 
may  be,  but  if  I  were  pa  I  would  ask  "  "  ^    '"tentions 

Terry's  face  flushed.  He  turned  suddenly  and  looked  at 
her  with  a  sharp  contraction  of  the  heart.  ^• 

'*What  doyou  mean,  Lizy  Jane?"  • 

eins^S  Ti^J  n  '^7'"*^  ^""^  sharpest  oC  the  Misses  Hig- 
S'ro  ^    "^  ^^"^'^^  *'°'"^''  '^  g'"eat  de*too  often  to  the 

STr'an tr^''  '/'"''  ^'^^  too  marked  attention  tïouf    ' 
-  T^ryr*        ^^^^^  '"""•     ""  '^  ^"  ^"S^g'^d  man,  isn't  he. 

«Yes— nor-I  don't    know—Elusabeth     Tane    vn.i  H«„v 
njean    to  say  that  Crystal    has^^al^Liirr'udT  Z^ 
plexion  turned  whûe-" fdlen  in  love  with  Ix>rd  Dyn%?" 
«fin  ch°"    '^".o«;anythingabout  it,"  retorted  Elizabeth  Jane 
still  sharply;  "f  don't  go  mooni«g  about  myseîf  reaS 
novels  and  poetry  books,  week  in  and  week  ou^T  Uave  2 

f;L^  ?K1  ^""'^  «ociety,and  D.rcas  n,eedngs"J 
th.^' ■  V  .V  «Jon't  know  anythmg  about  falling  în  love  and 
tha(.  sentimental  rubbish,"  says  Elizabeth  Jane,  her  black 
eyes  snappingf  ;  ««buf  I  do  know,  îf  I  were  pa.  l'd  not  haîe 
agayyming  nobleman  loafing  about  m^house  from  morn^ 
mg  untiL  night  flittiûg  with  my,  pf^ttie't  daughîer  S. 
.^oonhgk  ramb  es,  and  sunlight  rambles/Jd  efr  y  mom  nf 


-•v 


'  >,.\ 


tor  ier,  aod«^inè>ets, with  her,  and-bahl»  wy, 

^Mi^pi^       *  .  r  :|i>  A  V     -  ' 

'i 

I&4 


^r  THM  Picmc: 


-%. 


Ehzabethjane,  withsnappishness  ",Y,^,  i    j    ..      " 
"  And  they  carry  on  Ifki  ^.î'   m?  ^°'^*^'"  ^'«  "«se." 

as  mentfon  his  n Jmë  S  Cm°arh,!?l'*  k7°^¥^"''  «°  '""^h 
of  her  hair.     l've  told  oa    rS   ..      S^  blush*^  to  the  roots 

He's  only  a  good  lookini  bov  sLS^  .°"^  ^"^^^  herself. 
what  pa  says.     Queer  snrf  ^f\T^  ^^""^^  ^  «=Wld.'     That's 

a  «ny  ady,'  for  her  daughter  rVe  nn''^''  • '^"^  ^''^'"  ^ave 
folly!"  crie^-the  practical  anci  mJf  .  r^^'^"^^  ^'^^  such 
Jane  Higgins.  ^""^  matter-of-fact  Miss  Elizabeth 

-^'^^^'^^t^it^:l\-  ^""^  '"d^y  heat  has  faded  out 

has  turned  a   wooded  bend  ^n?A-      ''^  ^'"'^  ^'^"^  boat 
sjnging  now.  ''^"'^   ^"^  disappeared.     Crystal   is 

-cleS^^^^^^^^  The      ■ 

They  stand  silent  both.VntH  ^he  Is^n^rT'l^  "'^'^   ^-«• 
away.  '     ""  '"^  ^^st  note  of  the  music  dies 

and'  ^oT:;;;h:S  a  ï^uc^  o/r  '°°''"^  "^  '"  ^erry's  fac.. 
'kes  Terry  ;  she  l  t^gage/  to  7e  rTtJ".  '^^^  °'^"-     «he 
father's  curate,  whose  naf,e  but  fa.ntt  I*  .^^'"u  ^"^^^'  ^er    ' 
and  can  afford  to  be  sister  v  .^V        ^  ^^/^  ^°'''b  his  nature, 
the  b,g  dragoon  is  beS  ^"^P'^^f^^a''  and  her  Uking  fo 
riend  of  mL  France Trfes  eS  ''     n  ^"^>'  '^  ^«"'^e  a 
%nely  a  hint  to  n.ake  hTv  S^a  "     -'l  ^^'*^''  ^''^P  I^«^d 
fewr  and  far  between."  ^^'^  '''""^  "'"'■e  «ke  angels', 

She  leads  him  back      R..*  »k      i 
heavens,  the  beautj  fn«  L  iS?'^  ïîf  «°"^  °"^  «^  ^^e 
shines,  or  if  it  docsT  r  aLS,    ^^-     ^he  sun  no  loneer 

fs,  she  pi  ^ases.  -  She  S^L  am.1^'f  Jane  does  with  h,m  . 
talks  to  him  i»  her  sSim  ^m^   ""^  '**^'  *'""  aboat,  and 


/V, 


,  5  »,» .  t/ 


^^^@t».-^.ié«^.- 


i  I 


^ 


'P^ 


AT  THE  PIC  NIC. 


I8S 

her  sch2>Is  and  societies,  apd  it  ail  falls  dead  flat  on  TenV s 
ears.  He  J^ears  as  he  might  hear  the 'drowsy  rinple  of  a  m,ll 
strrtim-hç  conipreherideth  noL  "  Crystal  and  Er^r  vZ 
and  Crystal/'  thèse  unit^^  names  ring  S  changefôv;;  and 
over  and  over  again  in  hls  dazed  brain  ^ 

"There  theyanel"    cries  Elizabeth   Tane    with  inn.h.r 
V.CJOUS  snap  of  the  little  da.Ic  eyes.     ^T^k^^r^^, 

The  seventh.  Miss  Higginâ  did  not  niean  it  in  îhat  sensé 

grass  '^E^ÎJrtTl^^^^  ^T  ^^ey  can,e  togeth.r  oler T' 
funmer  côttunl'  f^"."^'  elegantv. handsome,  in  faultless 
sunimer    costume,   a    straw    hat    puUed    over    his    eves  • 

he7urettv  fit  ""■•^'"'  g-'-'^  liftle  strrrw  flat  ti  ed  ^^t; 
her  pretty  Grecian  nose,  and  a  biinch  of  big  flagrant  ^ater 
W.es  m  her  hand.  It  was  a  specialty  of  the  pSs/m  «s 
Higgms  thatyou  rarely  saw  her  except  covered  whh  flomî 
.décorations.     They  espied  Elizabeth  Jane  and   h^   esc^ 

"Sh'fî^  fhTs'ai^"^'  nervous  start  ind  gasp  for  breST'  ' 
TerryP»  '    '"    *^^'  fnghtened    whisper,    "it   is. 

ùZ^^'  ya-as-^so^it  is,  Térry,"  drawled  Lord  Dynely  put- 

Ung  up  h.s  eye-glass.     "  VVhere  did  he  drop  fronf  ?     I  ^ 

,    little  'un,  how  are  you  ?"  ^  ^^^ 

pne  languid  hand.     Terry  took   it,  and  dropped  it    as  xi 
«on  gfeddened  neither  his  eves  nor  his  heart.  ^    ^ 

«m.      A*  f, ?*"*"*  y°*^  ^"  ''"°«^-     Glad  to  sec  yOu  aJl  the 
j"""ome"^"'  """  ^'"^  ^'^^^"-«  "  -"«^  hâve  beln! 

Cr;l"SS''"TLT7  '^f't^  -J^^h,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
heart.     *'^^.    ^  ^y'  reluc»ïït  hand,  smote  him  to  thç 

letiêî?"  r  "'"'''  ^'^''^^^"  ^^  '^•'^     "You  received  m^^ 
"  Ob,  yes,  thank  you." 
Tr  il  ilwnjMf  Mig»  Ci>uud>s  fumiula  when  greatly  emb«w 


;74^:st 


S- 


...,""iîf"î 


i86 


■Z"  C  'V' 


AT  THE  PICNIC. 


of  E^fc"  bT„r.;eT  a' cmâr„"?  r  *'  ""i.'^  '■"-'-■  ?'-- 

week."  roreign,  pari».     You  were  to  be  back  jn  i 

■        and  S  if  a  ',>en«u7  "?«"'"'™  "O"''  ='*>d  >he  wear 

coming,  'Liza  lane     Vnn'li  «v^  ^^^  ^'■-  Meeke 

b»      '*«*  jaire.      YOU  11  excuse  me,  won't  vmi  ?" 

fire   of  lo*e  and  iSusv   htr!"  ""^  "'^^  ''^•^  "«^  ^°°^  ^^ê 

-/[bfbifbSsF^^^^^^^^^ 


^ 


V 


I.*.       s  ,    Juf  '' 


■#  - 


^f 


\  - 


,         Y-^r  rji£  PIC  NIC.    \  .Q„ 

He  has  lost  Crystal  »         •  ,  '^' 

Ay,,  lost  her;  thougli  Eric  shoUld  be  plaving  his  olr 
gamc  <,f  fast  and  loose  with  girls'  hearts,  woobg  fhem  th  ' 
Kour  w.th  his  charming  grâce  and  débonnaire  tealo 
llirow  them  away  the  next,  Crystal  is  lost^tp  hiniS  'tl  c 
same.  If  her  heart  has  gone  ti  Dynely  orVny  o  her  m,, 
then  she  goes  with  it.  The  heart  that  cornes  tô  C  fo  " fc 
must  hâve  held  no  other  Jodger.  And  she  loves  EHc-it 
has  ever  been  an  easy  thing  for  ail  women  to  do  tiiat-he 

hercS'  'And  P  ^'^T  «^«^^^r-'  i"  the  fir.t  «ush  o( 
nercheek.     And  Eric— whatidoes  Eric  mean  ? 

By  heaveh  !"  Terry  thlnks,  his  eyes  flashing,   "he  shall 
no    Play  wuh  her,  as  he  has  done  wi[h  so  many      He  sha 
not  |«..n  her  love  only  to  fling  it  contemptuousï;  avvay    «c 
shall  ttot  woo  her,  and  tire  of  her,  and  spoil  her  life    and 

"^tifh     ^'^  '^^^t  fhe^has  done  with  otheïs.     l'il  kiU  h.ni 
With  njy  own  hand  first." 

looking  as  unlike  ZTerry  ^  'cafSe'concdver^ndTe^ 

■  S  îr.h^ofThe^;""'^"-  K  ^^"^^"^  '^  -^^^  ^y  ^"^ ■ 

blares  St  /  r  "'  '",  '^^  ^?^*  ^^"^^«  ^^^^  ^^e  band 

blares  forth  a  German  waltz,  and  iittle  Crystal  is  floatin<.    - 

round  and  round  Hke  a  whiffof  eidp-downiTïïrd  DyTe Lf 
practised  arms.     He  sees  Terry,  ald  s.niles  a  ^^0^1 
of  sm.e  to  himself      If  Terry' s  pùrpose  in  Xm  ne  wra   -' 

K'^Dvn^w"  '"h\"'  itcoufd  n'otL  plaLfrSnJt 
l.ord  Dynely.      He  has  seen  h  s  àtate  from   the   first    hï     ' 

And  Eues  a.n  tighlens  around  dfBurs  sliuvpinb  »ai>t 

in:o''^;  ii^^i'.^i^:.  ''^'^^  "«■"  °'  ^-'h^  '^' 

His  f^ncy  forCiystal  hai 
"^"'^-    He  loves  her^-^^r 


'      il 


'  <• 


heart  ""SEe  will  not  be.half 


coolèil»  neve^  for  a  mo. 
4oc$-^witlr  h»  wito^ 
ible  a  wife  as;,  France, 


\     ■ 


"■.«Pf 


f'-^r^^y.'-' 


i88 


^r  Tas  picNic, 


•hall.-  Opposition  and  a  rival  h  ITk™ i"='^ ''«'""«  »"d 
«-hat  «II,  ,hi,  Httle  vill^e  b««rS,,n 'k^T^  ''™  =  ™""= 
very  evening  he  wiu  speX  ^     ""  ^  ""^  "■"■=•    Tbis 

danc|:rb^.rc^,''=.d'a^|heja  ,H  hin,  f™,„  ,,, 

«nce  sh.  J„  LorAD^n'l^S^r*"*""»""'  "««  "« 

,^«.ç„,a.ly.i„4  Te^r^^-nrVi'Snl^;;  ^^^^.^^ 

S's^^atlTT^Sa-'yjr  --".." 
f°.'     Vou  are   .ure.  Crys,al,^    Vo^  don.  care  fo, 

•nadly  jealous  I  hâve  been  bSe  no^  »^°"  ^""'^  "^"«^  ^«^     ^ 

her  mth  a  gaze  she  ^l^'Zt    t^^t-^'  ''  '°«k'"g  ^^ 

"  ISove  you.  Crvstal  »  i  ^"  ^"  ^^  «"ce  lie  speaks 

wife  -  ^  "'  ^"^y^^^'     ^e  says  ;  "  I  want  you  to  be  nt 

******* 
It  is  an  hoùr  later     tk»  ^-     ■  *        * 

perse.     Lord  DyneW is   o  hS"""»!^  "'  beginning  to  dis. 
theyretum  to  the  starting  "Z*  *        "'^"'  "'"^g«  «"en 

outwardly  at  leait,  a  trifle  bSed     K  •'  ^t^-V°^^^^  and 
""••I^Si"''  \''  »-«  in  .Kit  &-  "=  """"'"•  '^°« 


1i 


1=1 

0 


'•m^Y., 


^,<9/, 


■^','  f  '  •->'  î» 


%  \ 


'  *»»*i," 


,„w'.;^,.>  -"  .-1 


■  rp7^7T^'7f^^^75n 


i-  '•<%,'<"M-,ji^74»r^«*^ 


npling  baby 
le  must  and 
him  ;  coiue 
wife.     This 

11,  froin  the 
îd  twiJight. 
sothat  Ifé 
f  bliss  ever 

inging  her 

ar-studded 
II 

t"  puts  in 
Terry  I  " 
care  for 


^      '        .  AT^TffE  PICNIC.    î  o 

i"^  J  ge' ^ou-^n-^n^a^ei;,»  "i^Tf'  -"  -•.    And 
gave  nt'  .ha.f"""'™''  *  '"i"?  Pain  in  her  vofce,  "Terry 

Terry,  and  he  can  mV^^i^VT^r  1    -^  ^^^^  ^^t"»^»  it  to 
ring  but  mîneLncefortrfoliver?"'^^         "  ^^""^  °°  "^"'" 


î  it,  little 
nowhow 

see  if  he 
3king  at 
red  and 
speaks. 
>  be  niy 


p  ' 


to  dis- 
:  in  his 
s  when 


Lord 
d,  and 
I  alone 


issay^ 


^ 

.« 

-■■      !• 

■  S 

■ 

— 5 

.    1.. 

■ 

j': 

.'^ 

• 

/ 

■ 

J 

..:    \ 

i 

/ 

■<  ■ 

'é#^V%-- 

■  .- 

'■!■■ 

,.  .1^, 

'-i'% 

^ÉÉA 

^ 

^r^ 

/ 

1 

. 

a 

é 

î 

*    w 

' 

' 

t- 

i 

.:^    "" 

■ 

-*             U-^-.  - 

,.  --. 

\ 

•'# 

,< 

- 

• 

' 

, 

'■' 

7 

' 

1 

* 

t. 

" 

• 

■ 

« 

':  ' 

<     • 

• 

i- 

• 

^ 

"■ 

■,j 

^^m 

^^^pw? 

•^^ 

/ 

_  >' 

S 

'■ 

■f  P 

■f 

' 

•■/■ 
1  '  ■■ 

1 

i 

,/ 

\ 

.. 

■  w 

/ 

\ 

• 

;* 

' 

7 

.^ 

1 

' 

: — 

■— -r- 

— -_ 

■ 

• 

/' 

- 

^ 

1 

1 

■ 

■ 

-»■  "        ■  '  i 

,'i 

'i* 


■> 


k. 


t 


'»    ^ 


0^:\^ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


k 


A 


^ 


f/. 


I.Ô    !f  lài  IM 


l.l 


Hî   1^    12.0 


18 


11.25 

||M 

1^ 

1 

6"     — 

,  - 

< 

► 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WtST  MAIN  STRIET 

WfBSTER.N.Y.  14S80 

(716)  S73^S03 


^ 


.,  .■•■'V-n.-W.'s-tiï-î''.,... 


^'igrcf|#^^n:.  'tz-^^ 


¥'* 


CHAPTERXIL, 

«THEY  SHALL  TARE  WHO  HAVE  THE  POWER." 

■  lover.     Thiy  shoJ  Sr!.  ^'^j**^^  ^"^  '^^^  'o^i'> 

ioy.  a»d  there  îs  a  half  smiJe  of  ït  u^"^""'  ^'S"^'  «^  Uai. 
Eric's.     They  drink  tel  nul    F?u  .^^^''^^'o»  and  triumph  in 

tnps  down  to  jhe  gâte.  SyTr  Ss^de'""^^'-  ^"^  ^^^^^^' 

between  both  his  hanl  .^J^rr/"?       '^'^"^  ^'"^ 

papa.     Good-nighf.  .queên  rose  of  t£"'^'^  /"ï^^*^^  ^^'^'^ 

girIs,'anddrean?ofnie"  ^''^  '"^'^^^'^  S^rden  ol 

han'XsLîVîif  f  ^^rTlt^ant  °"  °1  ^■^'^^-  "- 
how  great,  ho«r  good  I  So  far  f  hn  î^  '"^"  '  "°^  ""ble, 
wonderful  condef cens  on  to  We  he;^^^^^^^  in  his 

Oh,  what  a  thrice-blessedriri  she7sî    c;"'^''"  '^^'-  '""«  ^"■'-•-  * 
cent  fairy  must  hâve  presidfd  «fh     u-   u^i5^'>'  '°™e  ^enefi- 
thus  chosen  the  electTf^he  gods         ''''  ^^^'  '^'  ^''«"'^  l^« 

^nd'liiLttiYane";;! ^^'r''^'^' ''^  ^-  E^-  ^ 

^ew  js  falHng,  and  that  yo^^ess  is^g^n^a^er ^^^^^^^^^^^ 
''^^X^MluZ^f^Pt^^^^         -rrs.    gently.. 


C( 


,^^lj0*^ 


^UEY  SHALL   TAKE   WHO  HAVE  POt^R.      ,9, 

«rifcd"î!!m^*'"T'K'^^  iï"*^''  ^'^^^  ^  ''^^  Elizabeth  Jane 
mil  lead  him,  and  how  différent  her  life  is  ordered  fr6,n 
poor,  plam  Eluabeth  Jane's.     She  feels  a  great  pity  fok  " 

She  stops  and  recoils,  a  swift  flush  ôf  pain  and  shame 
darkensher  hy-lcafface  for  tall  an.i  ^,.1,  tt  1  ^"^'"^ 
before  her.  '  ^^'^'^'  ^^"^^  looms  up 

Jl}]"^  ^^^  no  chance  to.say  «  word  to  yon  ail  day  Crvs- 
tal  he  says  trymg  to  speak  cheerfnlly.  ^.  You  hav^  been 
90  completely  monopolized  by  Dynely  It  is  a  lovl^^ 
mght-iefustakeatun.aroandtheyrIkn?''  ^^'"'^ 

What-at   tvvelve  o'clock  ?     Oh?  Terry  i"  she  laucrhs. 

he?ïan^d7o"lî!nW  ''^'''k  ^'^^'^^'  ^  ^'"^"  ^^^^^^^  vision,  kisse^  -• 

lie  Rev  M     r"  ^>^"HP^^Ja"ding,  and  disap,^;rs. 
by   two      ï't  ^.   r  f  "?.'  "'■^«.daughters  are  paired  off  W 
VU.lZ  :u    T  Crystal's   misfortune   to   be   billeted   with 

Eluabeth  Jane.      And  when  Elizabeth  Jane   cornes  u  , 

ont  to  FI  t"wK'?^'  *''**',"«  ^  "^"^^<^»  accompaninient  whh 
dre^a.    tJh.    t    '    *e.spn"IS»  Hghtly  out  of  bed  ind 


^H 


[e^ 


■(..  'iv'i'wvi'ïû  t 


''mÉÊMM 


192      THEY  SffALL   TAKE   WHO  HAVE  POWEIt. 

Ail  within  is  still  and   asleep,  ail  without  is  awakie  and 
fuU  of  jubilant  hfe.   The  roses  turn  tbeir  crimson,  p.Tk  ad 
finowy  faces  up  to  that  cloudless  sky,  a  hundred  c  oirs 
bjrds  pour  forth  their  n.atin  song  ;  o/eV  ail  the  si    ."e 
Hvmn  nf  P    •  ^^   ''''""^^'ù    "  ^n^ol^ntarily   Mendel.sohn' 
a^rbLlXVSl^^rd'?''^^-"^^^  ^"  ''-  '^-'^^^^^ 
She  runs  down  to  thè  gâte  a«d  leans  over  it,  still  sinein^ 
Her  song  reaches  another  early  riser,  loung  ng  aiu  S 
aga.n.tan  elm  near  by,  smoking  a  matinal  ciga^r^He   tart, 
flings  the  cigar  away,  and  crashes  throWh  thf  dewy  Lincoîn 
shrre  grass  to  join  her.    It  is  Terr^.    v/ho  else  inTha  hou^' 
hold  of  women  smokes  régal iaiat^ve  in  the  mornin/?  "^" 
ferry  has  iipt  s  ept  well-has.no^slept  at  all-and  looks 
haggard   and   anxious  in  this  brïUiark  Lrning  light      He 
pulls  his  straw  hat  farther  over  hisVMo  excMe  the  daz 
zhng  Sun,  and  sees  Crystal's  sweet  fa4%ud,  and  ^ears^^^^^^^ 
fi  «n"^u^'^  ^^^^  ^^  ^^  >°'"«  her.  V%e;vous  troubla 
look  fiUs  the  gentle  eyes,  the  loveliest,  llthinks.  o'n  earSIi 
"  Vou  were  always  an  early  riser,  Crysf'^  '    °"^^'^^^B 
-  a  faint  smile.     «  I  see  you  keep  up  your  gooa  H 
you  hâve  quite  slept  away  yesterday's  fttiguej 

Ar.^^^^'     ,^"^  y°"'"  '■^t*'^^^  M^ss  Crystal.    «Xfîbpë  your 
dreannwerepleasant,  Terry?"  '        A^cyour 

'  grJvely"^"''"  ''^^*  "°''  ^'■^^'"^'^  ^*  ^"'"  T'erry^ers, 
She  glances  up  at  him  shyly,  then  turns  aw^y  and  b^ 
^.Ihng  nervously  at  the  sweetbrier  growing  oTer  the  gf^ 
tl  1  f ,  T  °^  ^"^t  ""'^  destructive  hands  and  holds  i> 
fast  and  looks  at  the  finger  upon  which  he  had  placed  the 

andtrnoti^g"  ''"'  ''''''  half-frightened, Wtutt. 

"  You  promised  to  wear  it,  Crystal  "- 

«  I  beg  your  pardon,  Teny,  I  did  not.     You  put  it  there. 
and  I  wore  it  untiJ "  ^        "lere. 

"  Until— go  on,  Crystal." 

But  she  wiU  not,  it  seems.    She  turns  farther  from  him 
;^»«.»  v^iuatas  aweciDner  sprayg  waoïoniy;  ~~ "^ — "" 


fvv  «•  #•   1 


\ 


/.:^-3 


r^£y  SHALL   TAKE  WHO  HAVE  POWER. 


193 


"  Unril  when,  Crystal  ?    Answer  me." 

"  Until  last  night,  then."- 

"  And  what  became  of  it  last  night  ?" 

Ile  tries  to  see  her  face,  but  she  bolds  it  love  over  the  fra- 
grant  blossoms,  and  is  silent  again 

«Crystal!    Crystal!"  he  cries  out;    "what  does  it  ail 
mean?    Who  removed  my  ring  ?  " 
^^Then  ail  at  once  she  turn*  at  bay  and  looks  at  hîm 

"Lord  Dynely  toolf  it  last  night.     He  had  a  right  to  taîce 
[1    '.^^"^ear  no  man's  ring  but  bis  ail  the  days  of  my 

hurt  you,  Terry,  but— I  love  himr 

Her  courage  dies  away^s.quickly  as  it  came.  She  grows 
cnmson  a^l  over  her  pearl-wfiite  face,  and  returns  once  moTe 
to  the  suffering  sweetbner.  '^    .'■ 

For  Terry— he  stands  -as  a  man  who  receives  his  death- 

rjrï"%„riul"l  It  A«.A  -P-^^^  it-has 


blow- 


known  it.     Ônly  that  does  nôt  sêem"*to  mïkelï'  any  "he 
easier  now.  *  «.  v  "»c 

\J^^  fT^l  ^"^ï*^"'  ^'^'■-    ^'^^  ^'^^«  ^  iook  at  him,  and 
that  look  fnghtens. her  more.  \ 

■    '\  Oh,  Terry,  don't  be  angry,"  she  fajters,  the  ready  tears 

spnnging  to  her  eyes.     »  How  could  I  help  it  ?    How  could 

1— how  could  ariy  one  help  loving  him  ?  '\ 

';  No,"  Terry  answers,  a  curious  sfiffness  about  his  lips.  a 
cunoushardness  m  his  tone;  "you  could  not  help  it  I 
raight  hâve  known  it.  You  are  only  a  chUd-I  thought  you 
a  Sn"'"  ''°"'''  nothelp.it  ;  but  hè-by  Heavin,  he's 

She  st^ted  up— stung  into  strength  by  that. 

v.„  -r"  ?^  '  "  •^''^  ^'^^  °"*'  Passionately.  "  How  dure 
v«.^'h  "^  Dennison  You  say  ^o  me  behind  his  back  what 
you  dare  not  say  to  his  feçe.  He  is  the  best  and  noblest 
«an  that  ever  lived."        :t 

^the  blue  eyes  looked  up  (earless  and  flasbing  jjp  hS^ 


^Ifou  love  him,  Crystal  ?  " 


V 


'^  ^1  *  -  •;    *» 


-iS   ■ï^jéd 


I 


;  î:rr- 


:  «  r,»»*"5-j"'4'  '«.'4 
T'  v'''"S.N#j/'..  ■il 


194     y^^K  ^^.€ZZ    TA/CE   IV/fO  HAyE  POWER. 

^.J' With  my  whole  heart-so  well  thatif  I  lost  him  I  should 

«  ^nd  he— he  tells  you  he  loves  you,  I  suppose?  " 
truly^l:  itnd  he?e"''  '  '"°"  ''     '  ''"°-"  -^u^and 
,    fo"edtraL'sYtt"Xl^^^^^^  her,lea„inghi. 

score  piy  Lord^  Dynély  has  told  that  same  story  to  in  h"s 
one-and-twenty  years  of  life  ?  We  live  in  a  fas7age,  but  î 
doubt  if  many  men  go  quite  so  fast  as  that.  I  wonder  what 
France  Forrester  will  say  to  ail  this  ?  " 

The  angry  color  faded  out  of  her  face,  the  ancry  light 
died  out  of  her  eyes.  She  stood  looking  at  him?2oS 
ashejgray.  She  had  utterly  forgotten  that.  "'™' S'°'''"8 
Miss  Fpn-ester!"  she  responded,  slowly;  "I  fdrgot!  I 
forgot  !  And  last  r^ht  he  told  me-he  told  me—'? 
c,;^  ^^  t°^<l  yo"  noïhing  about  her,  l'il  swear  1  "  Dennison 

Srst^^tHn'.?''  '"K-^^^le.^""^^'  "  '^''  "  hasbeen  an  un 
fh?Mï  .  ^  ÎT  ^"  "^^"^^  *h^^  ^^  «'as  to  marry  her  ; 
l^?e  that TS-Ï""'^  three  weeks  ago  to  ask  her  toL  hi 
IIl  .  u''^  /"^  ^l^  ^^'>  ^^S  her,  entreat  her,  and  that 
she  sent  him  down  hère  out  of  the  way,  pending  her  fina 
answer  ;  that  if  that  answer  be  favorable  [hey  are  tl  be  maî 
ned  next  spnng  in  London.     His  mother  told  me      Whaî 

nortelîrdf  th^:^.  '^'  "^^^'  ^^^^^^•'  '  -  ^"-  --  ^^^ 

"There  is  one  fortunate  cirobjnstance  aboutit"  the 
young  nianwent  on;  "he  is  a  villain,  but  he  won' t  break 
Z  \7'' .-  ^°%^^'^>«ï  ™ay  «eem  to  y'ou,  but  ail  ?he  bemUy 
and  attraction  of  your  demi-god  are  quite  thrown  away  upôn 
her.   .  She  doesn't  care  for  him.      She  knowrs  him   to  J)e 

h^ok.'n'  ^"5  r'"  ""''"^'"  '^^"^  water^the  frailestof  l5 
broken  reeds  for  any  woman  to  lean  on-and  will  rejoice  ac 
cordingly  at  being  rid  of  him.     But  for  you,  Ciystaî-you^ê 
notUieûrst,  nor  the  hundred-and  Whe  hasTwSt 
Tny!<^  to  ;  TOyoWribTb^lheTasC  that  /swSu^iTy^ 


'TiS^»^^}-' 


X,.  '  • 


'î»> 


.    Whèf 


■fe- 


t^EY  SHALL   TAtCE   WttO  HAVE  POWER.      ,95 

give  hira  a  chance.  If  you  care  for  Lord  Eric  Dynely,  and 
want  to  keep  hun,  why,  then,  raarry  him  out  of  hand- 
strike  while  the  iron  làj^ot." 

Shesaid,  not  a  word.  WltUe  and  still  she  stood,  ail  life 
and  color  stncken  ont  of  eyes  and  faceby  his  words. 

Ashelooked  at  her  the  bitterness  died  out  of  his  own 
soûl  m  compassion  and  remorse. 

"Oh,  Crystal,  forgive  me  i "  he  said.  " I  am  a  brute  !  I 
ought  not  to  say  such  things  to  you.  But-^I  loved  you  se 
-I  hâve  loved  you  ail  my  hfe.     I  trusted  you,  and  I  trusted 

It  was  more  than  she  could  bear-her  owtï  pain  and  his 
vïnished       ^^^^  ^"'^^'  ^"""^  °""  °^  ^^^  S^^^^"  '^^'^''  ^nd 

The  day  was  six  hours  ol^r-the  vicarage  docks  were 
stnking  eWen-^s  Lord  Dynely  dismounted  from  ".  hisTed 
roan  steed  at  the  vicarage  gâte,  and  flung  his  horse's  bridle 
HL?"  F.r^fi^^'^-P°''-  ^^°^^  ^^  '^«"'^  ^^a^lï  the  ho"se! 
paths  and  beckoned  him  to  approach.  - 

".You,  my  darling,"  he  said,  gayly,  "and  on  thewatchfor 

'  your  deyoted  knighfs  coming.     l'L  not  late,  am  I  ?    Buî 

earlynsmg  as  you  understand  the  term  in  this  primitive 

wilderness,is«^/mymost  prominent  perfection." 

vn.,      T     /^^  !^'^'  ?'°^'y'     "  ï  *^a^e  something  to  say  to 
you.     Last  night  when  we  were  talking-when  you  told 

ForriSer.-r       "^   "'^'  ^^."-3^°"  said'nothing  ^of  Miss 

angry  light  ever  so  ready  to  rise.  ^ 

«-"A''°Jî*^  been  talking  to  you  ?  "  he  deraanded.  "  But  I 
need  hardly  ask.  Mr.  Terrence  Dennison,  of  course." 
from  hU  !  °T  *f  ^^^  '°"«  ^""^"  «he  returned,  shrinking 
rlcoi  Ï'%^"S^  '°oks,  tremblinç  like  a  nervbus  child,  yet 
n!.n  f  ^.  V  °"'  "  °"'^  ^  ^4ot  it  yesterday.  Oh,  Lord 
ld![  w"  '""'"  'V^^^  to  say  such  tLgs  to  me: 
-^g.^^  the^ttme^engagedtgmanyrerT^"— — —  — 

«.HTk^'S      u°^^  utterlyfor  the  first  time  with  the  words. 
and  cavenng  her  face  with  her  hands,  sobbed  hysterically. 


L^J 


,  ^->'fei 


*    » 


r  - 


fé'?^^. 


'^W^ 


g^ïfW»; 


vrjf  fj  -.T  ^  Tir^  '  'J  ^    l''*'-*rr  Î.'T^P^^ 


196     THEY  SHALL   TAKE   WHO  HAVE  POWER. 

"  Why  did  you  ever  corne  hère— why  did  yoii  make  me 
love  you— how  could  you  deceive  nie  so  ?  1  knew  I  was 
not^  worthy  of  you.      I   was    happy  before  you  came  ; 

"You  would  hâve  married  Deanison,  and  lived  happy 
for  ever  after?  Is  that  whàt  you  are  trying  to  say,  Miss 
Higgms  ?  Terry  has  been  pleading  his  own  cause  this  morn- 
ing,  I  see,  and  slandering  me.  Common  gratitude  from  the 
dépendant  of  my  mother's  bounty  might  hâve  kept  hioi 
silent,  if  nothing  else  ;  but  gratitude  is  an  obsolète  virtue. 
Smce  you  are  so  easily  influenced  by  him,  it  would  be  a  pity 
to  take  yo^  from  him.  \  Hère  is  his  ripg— let  nîe  replace  it 
on  yourfinger,  and  take  back  àll  thè  nonsensical  things  J 
said  to  you  last  evening."  y 

She  uttered  a  cry  like  a  child  under  the  lash.    At  that 
Sound  ail  ange^died  out  within  him,  he  caught  her  hands 
^nd  heW  them  in  a  fierce,  close  clasp. 

"  I  will  never  let  you  go,",  he  said.  "  I  swear  it.  My 
wife  you  shall  be,  and  no  other-s.  You  are  mirie— n.ine 
alone,  and  as  mme  I  claim  you.  I  deny  ail  Dénnison's 
slanders.  I  am  not  engaged  to  Miss  Forrester  or  any  othei-v 
hvmg  woman.  Miss  Forrester  is  no  more  anxious  to  marry 
me  than  I  am  to  marfy  her.  It  is  ail  my  mother's  doing 
and  her  guardian's— they  made  the*  compact,  but  we  will  not 
ratify  it.  You  I  love,  and  you  I  will  make  my  wife.  Where 
is  your  father?— in  his  study.?  ïhen  I  will  go  to  him  at 
once,  and  make  an  end  of  ail  doubt." 

He  strode  away,  and,  looking  handsome  and  haughty,  was 
admitted  mto  Mr.  Higgins'  private  sanctum.  In  few  and 
soniewhat  insolently  authoritative  words  he  made  known  his 
errand.  He  loved  his  daughter  Crystal,  he  wished  to  make 
her  his  wife.  Then  he  sat  still,  and  looked  at  the 
clergyman.  If  he  expected  the  Vicar  of  Starling.to  be 
overpowered  fcy  the  honor  he  wa?  doing  him,  he  was 
mtstaken. 

Mr.  Higgins  sat  aghast,  literally  ;^hast,  and  pushing  his 
spectacles  up  his  forehead  sat  helplessly  staring  at  the  yogog 


~ss 


■i».    >'. 


■iu4'  *.Slfe4«?l4 


-■>1 


,  r/r/TK  SITALZ   TAJTE   WHO  HAVE  POWER,     ,57 

**^My  daughterl  My  dauçhter  Crystal.,  K^i/  want  te 
aaarry  her,  Lord  Dynely.     01^  impossible  f  impossible  I  " 

"And  why  mipossible,  sir,  may  I  açk?»  haughtily  and 
angnly.  ^  ^      ' 

"  Because— Lord  bless  my  soûl  !  because  she's  too  younr 
to  marry  any  one  ;  because  wheh  she's  fwo  or  three  years 
older  were  going  to  itiarry  her  to  Terry  Dennison.  It's 
been  an  understood  thing  always,  always,  that  Christabel 
was  to  toarry  Terry." 

'  "  And  may  I  ask  again,  Mr.  Higgins,"  cried  Lord  Dynely, 
stiU  more  angrily,  stiU  more  haughtily,^  "  if  you  prefcr 
Dennison  to  me  ?  " 

"  Well-well-well,  don't  be  angry,  my  dear  youftg  g'entle- 
man,  don  t  be  angry.  Bless  rty  soûl  !  you  marry  C?ystal  ! 
Upon  my  word  and  honor,  I  néVer  thought  of  suc*  a  thin? 
— never!  Prefer  Dennison!  well,  in  .a  worldly  point  0I 
View,  you  re  the  best  match  of  course,  but,  then,  we  knoW 
Terry,  and  he's  one  of  the  family,  and  he's  a  good  lad— oh 
a  very  good  lad  !  and  1  shouldn't  be  afraid  to  trust  my  Httle 
one  to  his  kceping."  ' 

«And  you  are  afraid  to  trust  her  to  mine!  "  said  lordlv 
£,nc,  pale  with  passion.  ^* 

"^.-  "No,  no,  not  that  either!  Bless  my  souI,  don't  be  so' 
quick  to  jump  at  conclusions.  It's  only  this-I  know  hira 
better  than  I  do  you— I  trust  him  entirely,  and  thçn  it's  been 
an  understood  thing  always.  Crissy  has  no  right  to  play  fast  ' 
and  loose  with  Terry.  Besides,  there's  yoîr  cousin-no, 
Shes  not  your  cousin,  I  suppose,  but.  ifs  ail  the  same.  î 
mean,  of  course,  Miss  France  Forrester."  ^ 

u".^?';/'""'"  <ï«™a"<îs  the  exasperated  you ig  lord,  "and 
whatof  Miss  France  Forrester?" 

be^'n^old'*'^'^^""'''*  ^^^"  engaged  to  her,  or  so  I  hâve 

'  »" J'îf'V  ^!,-  Jî'«gi"s.  you've  been\,told  an  infernal  lie," 

retorted  Lord  Dyoély,  too  utterly  overcome  with  rage  and 

exaspération  to  much  mind  wbat  he  said  ;  •"  I  never  was  en- 

f^^A  l'f  *^^  Forrester  or  any  one  else.     Am  1  to  un. 

iSïïU^^  décline  to  accept  me  as  the  husband  of 


A 


h- 


_^T;^;,,|^t/-9^-^,.  r.-%7^^^^^^^[ 


i  / 


\ 


1^8   "TffÈY  SHAJ,f.,TAlCB   WHO  HAVE  POWER. 


<Oh,  dçar  «<^ 
'don't  knovtr  what 


so 


jl^r»  Higgins,  in  a  troubled  tonè, 
^je»  l'm  sure.     You've  taken  me  o« 
much  by  surpnse— I  alwaj^s  l^ked  upon  her  as  belonging 

This  was  growing  more  than  Lord  Dynely  could  bear.    He 
rose  to  his  feet,  exasperated  beyond  endui^nce. 
.    '^^'^«i^"'^'"  saîtf  the  vicar,  piteousty  ;;  "  wait  a  little,  my 
,  lord.     What  does  Christabel  say  ?    She  ià  in  love  with  you, 
I  suppose  ?"  ' 

"  She  does  me  that  honor,  Mr.  Higgins." 

"  It's  a  brilliant  match  for  her,  and  yét,"  iç  that  troubled 
tone,  "  I  do  believe  she  would  be  happier  màrriçd  to " 

"  Mr.  Higgins,  you  insuit  me  I  I  décline  to  listen  longer. 
Good-morning:"  *  •  ^ 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Lord  Dynely.  I  had  na  intention 
of  insultmg  you,  I  am  sure.  If  Crystal  wishes  it,  and  you 
wish  itj  why  then — why  then  I  hâve  no  more  to  say.  Ônly 
thïs,  obtain  your  mother's  consent.  No  daughter  of  mine 
shall  enter  any  family  that  considers  her  beneath  them  or  is 
unwilhng  to  re<;eive  her.  Obtain  your  mother's  consent  and 
you  shall  hâve  mine.  Only"— this  in  a  low  voice  and  with 
a  sorrowful  shake  of  the  head— "  I  would  rather  it  had  been 
Terry." 

Lord  Dynely,  quite  pale  with  haughty  surprise  and  anger, 
bowed  himself  out.  Opposition  was  crowding  upon  him, 
and  he  set  his  teeth,  and  swore  he  would  hâve  her  in  spite 
of  a  thousand  imbécile  vicars,  a  thousand  match-making 
mothers.  And  Mr.  Higgins  sat  blinking  in  a  dazed  way  in 
the  sunshine,  fuU  of  vague,  apprehensive  regrets. 

"  He's  a  fine  yohng  man— a  handsome  young  man,  well- 
born,  well-bred,  titled  and  rich  ;  and  yet  I  am  afraid  of  him. 
It  s  thèse  brilliant  young  men  who  break  their  wives'  hearts 
as  easily  as  I  could  my  pipe-stem.  It  will  be  a  great  match 
for  one  of  my  girls,  but  I  would  rather  it  were  Terry." 

Leaning  against  the  vine-clad  porch.  Lord  Dynely  came 
face  to  far^  with  Terry  himself.  *  He  paused  and  looked  at 
mm,  his  blue  eyes  lurid  with  anger  and  défiance. 

"  WeH,  little  'un,"  he  said,  with  an  insolent  laugh,  "  you've 
heard  the  news,  I  suppose?    l'm  to  many  Crystal.    Con 


*^^. 


■Jk  1-  iw.  //■; 


\ 


î^M-'#i-!2&-'*45ii£M''^S'^'X?^'^#*'k^îS^fe, 


»  '3^ JV^'  '-T^jfj).'^»!  ^" "  '  •'  Jv"  ''''■'  '■',!>    * ''  '''■>  "  ''"  '"'^  ;îî'^"  >  î^^ï 


r/TiffF  ^-/WZZ    TW^iff   HTffO  HAVE  POWER, 


\ 


99 


gratulate  nie,  won't  you  ?  l' ve  been  rather  poaching  on  yoiir 
mandr,  you  see  ;  but,  if  the  dear  little  giri  bas  the  bad  taste 
to  prefer  me  to  you,  what  then  ?  And  aU's  fair  in  love  and 
war."  "     , 

He  turned.  to  go  before  Dennison  could  speak;  thî^l 
défiant  ring  still  in  eyes,  and  voice,  and  laugh. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  where  l'il  find  her,  Terry  ?    Ah,  I  see    -* 
her  in  ^he  arbor  yonder.     Don't  look  so  seedy,  dear  old' 
man— you  know  the  adage  that  has  held  good  ever  sinçQ  the^ 
world  began,  that —  ^ 

"  They  shall  take  who  hâve  the  power,       ' 
And  they  shall  keep  who  can."  '  , 

His  mocking  laugh  came  back  as  he  struck  a  Vesuvian, 
lit  a  cigarette,  aad  sauntéred  down  the  path  to  join  CrystaL 


/ 


k 

y 


■4 


V 


^<,!^^.,'^v^*i.>r 


î'^^i'W^f.T^îT'-'* 


"^é 


y 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

LIJHTLY  WOlk,   LIOHTLY  LOST. 
lORTON?" 


^ 


;'Yes,ii,ylo#        .  . 

;"Pack  my  portmatjteau,  and  hold  yourself  in 

"  Yes,  my  lord."  "  •  ^ 

Train  ILrts^iî;  l^J''''\^^^  ''^R  '■^""^  •"  fift^^^"  '">'n"tes. 

"Yes,  my  lord."  * 

ri^SfT^  ""*'  ^''^*.  ^^^^^^^^  P°"<=h,  Norton,  that  book  of 
cigarette  paper,  and Corne  in  " 

AU  this^multiplicity  of  directions  Lord  Dynely  murmured 

&Sne;tfd':^'''"''"^^"^"^^^°^^«  invitation,  Ter.^ 

viewrthfvici'°o?<S^  thfemorning  following-that  inter. 
-i  1  T     i  J^    "^"  **'  Starhng's  studvi     Only  nine  oVlork 
ajd  Lord  Dypely,  whose  usull  hour  5f  risinVand  LlHnl  f»; 
chocolaté  in  bed  wfts  twelve,  was  up  and  dresld      No?  on?v 

«r  H'e'^L'Tï'  '?  """^^^  •"  mosrurxceptfonlrg"  î 
up.  He  was,.  as  has  been  said,  a  dandy  of  the  firàt  wat^r  « 
djfficult  to  please  in  the  fit  of  k  coat  as^^youn^duchess 

As  he  ky  now^every  garment  he  wore,  in  niake  and  col 


J 


j_j~«j.,     , 


UGHTIY  1V0}f,  UGHTLV  LÔST. 


201 


4^T 


hÎ8  efforts  w«re  not  in  yain,  hiç  dress  always  looked  as  though 

V     it  were  a  part  of "  himsclf. 

He  looked  up  gavly  at  Denmson's  approach.  He  was  in 
high  gdpd  huWortWs  morning— at  peaçe«with  ail  th0  jvoild. 
Yesterda/s  irritation  had  entirçl^^ssed  away,  .Çrystars 
father  might  he  exasperating,  to  tne  last  degree,  but  Crystal 
berself  was  entirely^atisfactqry.  And  when  Crystat  was  his 
wife  be  would^take  care  the' Vicar  of  Starling  an^  hi«  familv  '' 
8aw  inicbmmonly  little  of  her.  For  Terry — well/  looking  at 
it  dispassionately,  after  an  excellent  dinner  and  à  prime  Ma- 
nilla,  he  was  forced  to  admit,  that  Terfy,  poor  beggar  1  had 
»ome  little  cause  of  complaint.  Somethnlg  very  like  foui  play 
had  been  doné  on  his  part,  something  the  codes  ofljis  order 
and  his  honor  would  hardly  recognize.  Still,  what  was  done, 
was  done.  Crystal  he  would  resigrifto  no  roan  living,  and 
Dennison  muet  make  the^best  of  it.  This^mexpected  oppo- 
sition had  but  strengthened  his  passion  ;  he  Bad  never  been 
8o  thoruîighl/  in  earnest  before  abôut  anV  love  affair  in  his 
life.  He  was  going  to  see  his  motherj^day  and  bring  her 
to  reason.  She  would  prove  a  little  restive  on  his  hands-^at 
first,  on  Fraifce's  acçount,  but  he  would,  speedily  bring. her 
around.  For  P"ranceywell,  he  winced  a  little  at  the  thought 
of  meeting  France.  To  be  laughed  at  was  horrible,  and  he" 
could  seç  France's  dark,  mischievous,  satirical  èyes,  ^rance's 
cynical  little  laugh,  hear  FranCe's  sarcastic,  cntting  speeches, 
"  Who  was  she  ?  "  indeed.  The  girl  must  be  a  witch.  Your 
sharp  girl,  your  clever  girl,  was  an  outrage  on  natiire.  Woniel 
Were  made  for  man's  use,  benefit  and  pleaspre;  why,  then,  V 
were  half  of  them  as  man  didn't  like  them?  Ciystal^with- 
out  two  ideas  in  her  pretty  head  aftd  loving  heart,  wais  his 
idéal  of  wpmankind.  Yes,  he  would  bring^his  mother  round, 
fetch  her  down  hère  to  see  Crystah  hâve  the  marriage  ar- 
ranged  to  talçe  place  before  Christmas,  ail  on  the  quieÉ,  and 
spend  the  Wintér  rambling  about  sunny  Italy.  And  next 
season  Lady  Dynely  would  burst  Aipon  London  the  Weliest 
thîog  ont,  a  pi;ide  to  her  husbanci,  an  honoi;  and  crédit  tq  hia  i 
~  iMte.  .^  ^ 

/  Ail  this  in>ram6ling,  disconnected.  self-satisfied  fashionj 

"^  WB^Î^ySilf hadifaouj^  owerlast  night  -Noil^^ïe  layioÛing 


:'*1 


-?r 


«7 


f^lf'UfTr?'^ 


î.'- 


.^r 


202 


LIGHTLY  WON,   LIGHTLY  LOST, 


!ins\n!f  r'K'  T^'^/^ît^'  P'-»<=tised  fingers,  a  smile  on  iii, 
D#nn"son  ^^"^'«'"^  ^^^^  «y^^as  he  looked  up  at  Mr. 

"  Pow  are  you,  Terry ? "  he  said,  genially,     "Corne  in  •  ^ 

midst   of  an  exo^us,  y^u  ^^off  to   Devonshire.     Km 

commission  for  France  or  thé  madré  ?  "  ^ 

"Iwillsendànoteby  yoi^  to  Xady  Dynely,"  Terry  an- 

cSt  ^'''^'  °°?'"«  v2ry  grave,  and  ratherpale^ErU: 
could  see  at  second  glance,  hjs  mouth  set  and  stem  ûnder 
bis  tawny  beard  and  mustacrie.     "It  may  be   some  time 

^'tt^^fnd's:^  7  "  P^^^^'^-  .  J°'"  "^^  -S'-"*  ^his  week 
"Ah!  leaVè  of  absence  exLired?  Be  off,  Norton  and 
order  round  [he  trap.  Only  fen  minutes  tô  startS'tfni2 
now.  Very  lUospitableof  me,  Terry-you  don't  ,M^mW^ 
ing  calls  at  Carruthers  Court  often  Jbut  I  really  ni^tSt 
short.  I  wenty-five  minutes  to  starting  time,  and  vou  know 
what  the  drive  to  the  station  is."  .       ^ 

barder  under  his  léonine  beard.  "I  came  to  sav  a  fZ 
words  about  Crystal."  ^^  *  '^^'^ 

Lord  Dynely's  cigarette  was  quite  ready  now.  He  looked 
up  at  his  companion  with  that  slow,  indolent  smile  of  his  that 

..  A°h??^  r  f  ?ï  ^"«olence  in  it,  struck  a  fuse  and  lit  up. 
rhn.«  ^     ^'^'^^^  ^    Let  ushear  it,  Terry.     You  could  n't 

Sîirmor'nlllg"' "'""'"'  "'^'''-     """^  ''  '""^  ^'"^^  ^^""8 
T  nri  n°"'^'^^  anything  about  your  conduct  in  this  matter, 
IZiP^'lt^"  Terry  began;  "you  know  best  whether  i 
bas  been  the  conduct  of  a  man  of  honor  or  not     Crystal 
perhaps,  is  not  to  blâme."  •    A-rysiai, 

"  How  magnanimous  !  '  Crystal   is  not  to  blâme.'     You 

-!f  K   r^'  ^^f  ^^^  *°  "*"^  y°»'  »n<l  because  she  honors 
TL  X    .r  P'eference  and  acceptance,  she  is  not  to  blâme. 

*  Ih^r  7r  *'"''T*^  ^^'  ^"."^'  "^«^'  Terry-she  makes 
a  rather  better  match  in  marrying  lA)rd  Dynely  than  she 
would  in  marrying  Terry  Dennison?"  ^ 

— — T>i«»  «nnw»  MKUmi^  ^a^Ti.  i:_trf„  :  ■-■       • 


^^%arangi7  gîeain  was  l^ting  again  Enc*8  sleepy^^ 


/ 


fa  f  *•  ïf/»  (iia.        1    #.  '  oa-141 . ,      1 1 


^j^a^ii^j^Ày^-^L. 


^;i^: 


LIGHTLY  WON,  LIGHTLY  LOST. 


203 


but  his  soft,  slow  tones  never  rose  as  he  spoke.  He  watched 
Terry  from  behind  the  wreaths  of  scented  smoke,  and  saw 
the  flush  thât  arose  and  overspread  his  whole  face. 

"  Yes,"-  Terry  answered,  after  a  pause,  in  a  slow,  stranw 
yoice,  "  you  are  right  ;  she  raakes  a  better  match  in  mar^. 
ing  Lord  Dynely  than  in  marrying  Terry  Deimison.  As  I 
had  never,  in  so  niany  words,  asked  her  tfljb  niy  wife 
whateyer  ipay  hâve  been  understood,  I  repeaTl  hold  lOt^ 
blarneless  m  this.  She  loves  you— she  never  did  me.  I 
might  hâve  foreseen,^  but— I  trusted  you  both." 

"  Don't  seei»  to  sée  it,"  Lord  Dynely  drawled,  lookinir  at 
his  watch.  "Only  ^ven  minutes,  Mr.  Dennison  ;  verv 
sorry  to  eut  it  short,  I  repeat,  but — " 

"  But  you  shall  heaf  what  I  hâve  corné  to  say,"  Terry  ex- 
clauned,  turnmg  upon  hira.  «  It  is  this  :  I  know  how  you 
hold  wpmen— I  know,  how  it  is  you  hâve  treated  them— I 
know  you  hold  It  fair  sport  to  win  hearts  and  flinajthem 
away.  What  I  hâve  corne  to  say  is— don't  do  it  hère/  She 
has  no  brother  or  father  capable  of  protecting  her.  I  will 
be  her  brother,  if  I  may  be  no  more.  For  your  mother^s 
sake  you  are  the  last  man  on  earth  I  would  wish  to  raise 
niy  hand  against,  but  this  I  say,  this  I  mean— if  wou  trifle 
with  Cryslal  as  you  bave  trifled  with  others,  Eric,  you  shall 
answer  to  me  !"  % 

He  brought  his  clenched  hand  down  upon  the  inlaid 
table,  the  vems  of  his  forehead  swoUen  and  dark,  witb  the 
mtensity  of  feeling  within  him.  Lord  Dynely  laughed  softly, 
and  flung  his  cigarette  out  through  the  open  window. 

Bon!     But  would  it  not  be  well  to  intimate  as  much 

jquietly.     You  do  it  very  well,  mv  dear  boy,  for  an  amateur  : 

^)ut  one  gets  so  much  of  that  kmd  of  thing  at  the  théâtre, 

and  they  do  it  better  there.    You  mean  well,  I  dare  say— 

sentmients  do  you  honor,  and  âU'that;  but  this  tremendous 

eamestness  is  m  such^cuced  bad  foriQ— in  Aueust,  of  aU 

months,  particularly."  _ 

"  Ihave  said  my  say,"  was  Dennison's  response.     «  It  is 

^^h^^arëTWhear  ànd  rememben  'TCurely  m  Se  boS 
•Cadd  hère— if  there  is  any  foui  play  in  this  business,  your 


7^ 


•V» 


■*.!*■  fi 


rim,^^' 


^^"^^^ 


'i     t. 


mr. 

'^  ^^%?  ' 

/-7'^'î;5*'' 

204 


LtCHTLY  WON,  LIGHTLY  LOST. 


&~-a 


hfe  shall  answer  it.  You  shall  not  play  with  her,  fool  hei 
and  leâve  her,  as  you  hâve  donc  with  so  many.  You  shall 
not  break  her  heart,  and  go  unpunished  of  God  an^  man. 
If  al  is  not  open  and  above  board  hère,  you  shall  pay  the 
penalty— that  I  swear."  ^  ^^       . 

''Time's  up,"  said  Eric,  lodking  at  his  watch  again.  He 
rei>laced  it,  arose  îo  his  feet,  and  laid  his  hand  on  Terry's 
shoulder.^ith  that  winning  smile  of  his  that  niade  his  f/ce 
So  charming. 

Jl^"^^  ^T'  '^^'V  H  ^'^'  '•  ^  ^™  "°*  such  a  scoundr^, 
8uch  a  Lovelace,  such  a  Don  Giovanni,  as  you  try  to  makê 
me  out.     Im   i-eady  to  go  with   little  Crystal   to  the  St. 
Georges  slaughter-house,  01^  the  little  church  down  a.nonff 
the  trees  yondér,  this  very  morning  if  I  niight.     You'ie  a 
good  fellow,  and,  as  I  said  before,  your  sentiments  do  you 
honor,  and  so  on      You  feel  a  little  sore  about  this  business, 
naturally— I  would  myself,  in  your  place  j  but  all's  right  and 
on  the  square  hère.     I  never  was  in  earnest  before-I  ani 
now.     1  m  gomg  up  for  my  mother— she  niust  come  hère 
and  receive  Crystal  as  her  daughter.     And  when  the  wed- 
dmg  cornes  off,  you  shall  be  the  best  man,  «an' ye  will,' 
lerry—thal  /sWear,  smce  swearing  seems  the  order  of  the 
day,    And  now,  dear  old  man,  don't  lecture  any  more:  it's 
too  hot-give  you  my  wor^  it  is,  and  I  want  to  reserve  al) 
my  strength  for  the  joumey.     Here's  seltzer  and   sherry 
Compose  your  feelings  with  that  liquid  refreshment,  and  dash 
off  your  note  to  the  madré  while  I  get  into  my  outer  gar- 
ments."  •'6» 

There  was  no  jfesisting  Eric  in  this  mood,  it  was  not  in 
huroan  nature.  T-he  charming  smile,  the  charming  voice, 
the  affectionate,  frankly  cordial  manner,  would  hâve  hioved 
and  melted  à  Médusa. 

"No,  Crystal  was  not  to  blâme,"  Tenyï  thought  with  a 
sigh,  glancing  over  âttheir  two  images  in  the  glass—it  was 

ïght  with  Eri  ""^  ^^^  *''*'  "^""^^  ***°"^**  ^^  '°  ^^"""^"^ 
He  "crawled  off  the  note  in  a  big,  slap^ash  sort  of  hand. 
gagh  loog.WMd  filhag  a  whote  line7^ok!e^,^«feeif:  W 
gave  It  to  Eric  just  as  he  sprang  up  into  the  ttwp  • 


■t^â^^.. 


A  ., 


\<.^-'^n:0r'' 


LtGHTLY  WON,  LJGMTLY  LÙST. 


-A; 


20Ç. 


"  Bye-bye,  old  boy,"  he  said,  gayly.  "  When  shall  I  tell  the 
madré  to  expect  you  ?  Not  before  Christmas  ?  Oh,  non- 
sensé  I  She  couldn't  survive  without  you  half  the  tima 
Well,  as  you  won't  be  hère  when  I  return,  adieu  and  au  ri» 
voir.     Love  to  everybody." 

The  groom  touched  the  horses.    They  sped  down  the 
aveuue  like  the  wind,  and  Terry  was  alone. 
•        ♦        ♦        *,♦        ♦        •        •        •        •.• 

"  It  is  very  odd  we  don't  hear  from  Eric— that  he  doesn't 
return.  I  can't  understand  it  at  ail.  It  is  three  weeks 
since  he  left  ;  he  was  to  be  back  in  one.  There's  sonie- 
thing  very  singular  about  it,  to  say  the  least." 

Thus  petulantly  Lady  Dynely  to  Miss  Forrester.  Thèy 
were  together  in  the  drawing-room — her  ladyship  reclining 
upon  a  sofa,  a  book  in  her  hand.  Miss  Forrester  looking 
charming  in  palest  amber  tissue  and  white  roses,  lying  back 
in  a  vast  downy  arm  chair  before  the  open  window,  putting 
the  (inishing  touches  to  a  small  sketch. 

"  The  house  is  like  a  toinb  since  he  and  Terry  left.  It  is 
inost  incompréhensible  indeed,  Eric's  staying  ail  this  time. 
If  you  understand  it,  France,  and  feel  satisfied,  it  is  more 
,  than  I  do.  My  dear  child,  do  put  down  that  tiresome  draw- 
ing  and  listen.  Ever  since  Mr.  Locksle/s  advenf,  I  believe 
you  hâve  given  yourself  whoUy  to  art."  . 

The  color  rose  in  Miss  Forrester's  clear,  dark  facer'  She 
looked  up  from  her  drawing  at  once. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Lady  Dynely.  What  was  it  you 
^ûdp" 

'^'/l*  About  Eric.     It's  three  weeks  since  he  went  away— he 
'     was  to  be  back  in  one.     And  he  never  writes  to  me  at 
least    Perhaps  he  treats  you  better— France,  what  are  you 
laughing  at  ?    Eric  has  written  to  you  ?  " 
Miss  Forrester's  musical,  merry  laugh  chimed  out 
"  Oh,  yes,  ma  mire,  Eric  has  written  to  me." 
"  And  you  never  told  me.    What  dôes  the  wretched  bof 
say?»  ' 

"I  don't  think  he  is  wretched.     It  was  a  very  ple^mnt  i gf  _ 


~fcr,    He  merely  wrote  to  give  me  up." 
"France!"  in  horror. 


'*tX 


■  '.'■^ 


Ai 


4'.^/l' 


206  LIGHTLY  WON,  llGHTLY  LOSn 

"Yes,  mamnia—he  came  to  his  sensés  down  in  Lincoln 
8hire  Couldn't  think  of  forcing  my  inclination^if Tlle  n  "• 
posed  alliance  of  the  noble  houses  of  Dynely  and  Forrester 

?!^?H  rh? .  fi  te.^'''  ^^  '^^'Sned  me.  It  read  like  one  of 
l/)rd  Chesterfield  s  masterpieces— was  a  niodel  of  polite  and 
chivalric  composition.".  */  uic  auu 

A  ^?°^,Heaven  !  and  you— France,  what  did  you  say  ?  " 
Again  Miss  l'orrester's  laugh  rang  eut. 

fn  'ih/"'T^'^r'"  ^'''■^^  î?'^''  niamma-terse,  pithy,  and 
to_the  point.  1  wrote,  'Dear  Eric:  Who  is  she?'  That 
epistle  he  has  not  donc  me  the  honor  of  answering.  I  think 
I  see  his  face  when  he  read  it.^ 

««ol^V''^"-^'''"''^  ^^^  ^''''^  *"^  ^e"*  off 'nto  a  prolonged 
peal  of  mernment.  ® 

fln^hf  ^  ^r^'^  '"'^  "P  °"  ^^^  ^°^^'  he^  «délicate  cheeks 
flushing  with  vexation.  \ 

"  You  wrote  that,  France— to  Eric  ?  " 
♦h,7  *""°^1  that,  mamma,  to  Eric.     I  understand  Eric  better 
than  you  do  and  l'm  not  the  least  afraid  of  Eric,  and  you 
T\  Lrf^^''^  ^'^''^  ''""^"  anything  more  to  the  point, 
LLÏ^  T  "J^iiV  "?'''•     "^   ""ght  hâve  answered 
though  ;  I  should  hke  to  know  who  my  rival  is  this  lime  " 
France,  do  you  really  believe — " 

tnîHîInth  V'""  5*"^^^'^"  in  love  in  Lincolnshire,  for  the  one- 
mi  honth  time  ?    Yes,  Lady  Dynely,  as  firmly  as  that  I  sit 
hère.    No>ir,  who  do  y»  suppose  she  can  be?    There  are 
wn„HK'%'"  ?••■  Pl^'l'P's  house^old,  and  I  don't  think  he 
ulv^"!?"*  •"*  ^^^""^^  ^^^*  affections  upon  the  cook." 
Miss  torrester,  if  you  consider  this  a  thème  for  jest-" 
n,.  M-^^'^      "  ^  ^^  dignified.  marama,  and  please  don't  call 
ne  Miss  Foirester     Don't  1  say,  1  don't  believe  he  would. 
in^of  .K^  r^  of  Terr/s  family-you  know  what  I  mean- 
Sic  I     t^  ^?^T*  °^  Nine-one  of  the  nine  Misses  Hig. 
Klli  lï  ^°"'^  be  <:om.cal  if  Terry  and  he  were  brotherl 
in-law  after  ail,  both  marned  on  the  same  day,  in  the  same 
church,  in  the  same  family,  by  the  same  pastor  and  p^^J 
Quite  a  pastoral  idyl  altogether."  ^^ 


^Miss  Forrester  laughed  again.     Ôf  late,  since  the  reccipt 


A  J^.K    , 


i-.K' 


UGHTLY  WON,   LIGHTLY  LOST. 


207 


of  I^rd  Dyneiys  letter.-the  whole  world  had  turned  rose- 
color  to  the  heiress  of  Caryllynne.  The  portrait  painting 
business  was  still  going  on  ;  but  not  even  to  herself  would 
Miss  Forrester  admit  that  that  had  anything  to  do  with  it 

lears  actually  sprang  to  Lady  Dynely's  pale  blue  eyes. 
'  You  are  cruel,  France  ;  you  don't  mean  to  be,  perhaps, 
but  you  are.  I  hâve  set  my  heart,  my  whole  heart,  on  see- 
ing  you  tnc's  wife,  and  you  treat  the  matter  like  this.  Yoa 
despise  him-you  must,  since  you  hold  him  and  his  feelincs 
so  lightly  and  contemptnously." 

France  laid  down  her  drawing,  went  over,  knelt  beside  the 
elder  lady,  and  gave  her  a  kiss. 


if  he  hved  in  the  same  house  for  the  next  hundred  and  fifty 
years,  and  I  do  aee  Eric  as  he  is.  He's  very  handsome,  and 
very  brilliant,  and  very  charming,  but  he  is  as  unstable  as 
water.  He  has  no  back-bone  ;  and  if  I  married  him,  and  he 
didn  t  break  my  heart  the  first  year,  I  should  henpeck  him 
to  death,  or—ihe  divorce  court.  For  the  xest,  you'll  see  l'm 
^«ght.  Some  new  face  caught-  his  fickle  fancy  down  there, 
andhence  that  magnanimous  letter.  I  don't  blâme  him - 
he  was  born  so,  I  suppose,  and  can't  help  it.     Hark  !  " 

She  started  to  her  feet  and  ran  to  the  window.  A  fly  from 
therailway  was  just  stopping,  and  a  young  gentleman  in  a 
ku  hfd^^"''  ""  *^^  ^""^  ""^  leapifg  eut.    Again  France 

"  *  By  the  pricking  of  my  thnmbs, 
Something  wicked  this  way  cornes,' 

as  Hécate  says.^  Speak  of  the  angels  and  you  hear  their 
wipgs.     Here's  Eric  now."  o  / 

Eric  it  was.    He  came  in  as  she  spoke,  and  met  her  laueh- 

ing,  roguish  glance,  that  seemed  to  read  his  inmost  thoughts. 

_     At.last  1    Just  as  yoflr  mother  and  I  were  tumini?  our 

4hoaghtsao  crape  and  bombeziae.    We  had  gîvëS  ylu  up^ 

lor  lost,  Éjic,  and  hère  you  corne  upon  us  like  a  teautifiU 


■  ■■»  «'^-^ 


.4 


W 


^^^JÔ  'i  'Hh  ï^'^J'sli' V'AâSfck^lvil^.' 


;r,    -i 


>^\\ 


L 


208 


z/<y^ZK  »t>Ar.  ziGJsrrzyzosr. 


donable.»  .  "'^  "*^e  been  considered  unpar- 

"Ah  I  but  we  don't  live  in  ti,«  ^-  i 

vacated  chair.    "And  my  de^ rtilï^^r  T'''^^  '"*°  P^^^^e'" 

yo« |i|re;^^^^^^^^^  asiced  France  to  «any 

naturally  b^'Sœ;ed^^'Ll''';remo^^?^^'  ""^u^  »"*"  ™-y 
tliat  distance  of  time."  '"emory  is  somewhat  hazy  at 

swer  in  a  week-dici  she  not  ?  "      ^^  ^°"  *°  ^°™«  forher  an. 

prose'ÎJtioryr^^^^^^^^  vlr'f  ^.r"-'  ^-  ^he 

seltzer.-'tot^fbotma^^S^enteïâ''''^'^-  ^'^^"^  *"<J 
flashi^S^"^yf^r^'î^;;^^'DyneIy  said,  her  eyes 
-a  lover-4  man  of  h^orV''  '^"''"^^  «^  a  gentlenïan 

"  It  was  the  conduct  of  a  man  of  sensé. 

•«•ndiebenotfair  forme? 
What  care  I  how  fair  she  be  ?» 

stand  ;  and  so,  apoo  "a«  s«^„h  T°  f  .  ""=  '"  """J"- 


'l^^à  ^î-rVr^-';?"^^, 


'.'?K 


•'^-^--^'^^^- 


J*,T-J-^. 


'    .-   '.   »■• 


i*' 


UGHTLY  WON,   UGHTLY  LOSt. 


^ 


rSnsidcnûy'r»'  ''°"'"""°'  """'"""'  ^'^■""*^  "«^. 

"Andshesaid?"  eagerly  f 

is  sh??^  '^i'^h"  1 -^'"^  ^x?'  ^^SS'^^"^  ^*  *»^«^  recollection,  «  «  Who 
haven't  t  J.n  w'^'f  ^m'  ^°'"''^^'^'"  '""«^  ^e  a  sorceress.  I 
h,l.n  Îk  ï  S^  *^°"'''^  *°  *^"  *^^^  ^''o  she  is,  but  I  hâve 
^f ï  *'^*l,*j;?"ble  to  return  hère  to-day  to  tell  you  " 

to  teU  me-"'  "'°^''^'"  "'^'^'  '^^"'°«  *°  ^^«^  ^^^^'  "^o"  "«^n 

excite 'vo.Tr^;;if^"r'^!?'J''"'"''""'y'  "^^  «'  d°^»-  Don''^ 
bÔdv  til^nL  ,ï'  ^°°^  "'^^""  •'  ^^"«'«  the  use  of  every- 
body  taking  thmgs  so  senousiy  in  this  way— getting  steam 

LVe°m:fa%W^'ïï  "°f"«'  .^  '"-«^  '°  *'"  •-  '^It™ 
Forreste  f?^/  T  »,  ^^  *  î^^,"'.^"^  ^^'"^^  better~than  France 
Sed  heV  r^l     ,h^^f  .asked  her  to  marryme  ;  that  I  hâve 

frrpu'inTSeur "  ^°"^^*  ^'^^^^  '^  ^^^^  -^^^^  -«- 

His  mother  dropped  back,  stunned. 
In  three  weeks,"  sfie  niurmured,  in  a  da^ed  voice  '«^11 
this  m  three  weeks'  tinie  "  ' 

TiSt    ■     A^'?"-    Itïsanaccomplishedfact." 
Who  «  she ?"  Lady  Dyn^sked,  helplessly. 

"  ffiggîns'  ""'         '''"'■  '^''"-     '^'^^  '^  ^'^^  "'^g'"^" 
"  Yes,  poor  child.     Ifs  not  a  distinguished  appellation 
and  a  rose  by  any  other  name  does  not  smell^as  sweet 


frr 


/■,,.*,  '"h 


.%..  ^ 


A     '«     .• 


^. 


aïo 


Z/^^TZK^rOAT   i>^^^^^^^^^ 


going^t'?:l!;7pT;     ™sg.rlisthesisterofthegirlTerr^., 

compréhension  pe^opt  appe^r  J"^.  ^'^  i"'^""^"^'>' ^«'d  o' 

lady  Mr.   Dennison  Ked  w^h  h^^°'"f''^^^^^^ 
tended  to  transform  info  Mrs  Den„;       P'"?^5"'^e.  ^nd  in? 
h."..;  I  carne,  I  sa«r.  I  conquere^'""^"-    V"^°']""^'^'3^  fo»- 
big  dragoon,  and  I  left  •  TVr  ,  ?^?  P^eferred  me  to  the 

at  Pâvil  'AU  irîLfbûtlon^r'-''""'"^'  "'^«^^^-"cis  Firs? 

of  coZ",:fving"htTce"ht'er^^ 

upon  her  son.  ^  !  ''^'^  eyesjixed  m  a  sort  of  horror 

-^^^^'yot^^{^^^^::y^-  ''l  "^'r-y^^  --  to  tell 
Eric  lifted  his  blonde  e^l  "^^  ^^^  ^'^  ^^  ^^ved  ?  " 
"  If  yo«  pat  ft  in  that  sent^n^nVr  ^"^'^  ^-«'gnation. 
She  ^ood  and  Ced  at  hT„  ^'^chf  P^?'  '"^'""^^•" 
words  came.      The  baseness  of   fht  f^^  ^?,  «P^ak-no 
«signed.  the  noble  self  ^cr  fiel   he  LÏ^'k  ^"  '^^"^  ^^^^ 
much.     He  had  given  u^h,  hJr.h     .f"^  shown-was  too 
was  EricVreturn.  ^     '  birthnght  to  Eric,  and  this 

thin^lrK^^^^  î-t,  ,roused  to  some- 

thematternow?  wS;  d"^  you  tX  Teï^'"/''^- •  "^^^*» 
to  heart?  isn't  he  bia  enoJlh  .n7^  ^  *^^'"  ^°  ™"ch 
after  himself  ?  Am  I  r^blamet  slie  to  hl'"""^r^  î°  ^^«'^ 
g"  me  to  him?  i  ex«e?ted  fo  k  .^'^'"^' '^  ^^^  P^e- 
Irance's  account.  but.  s^dliLZ  ï^  i*.''?"  *^  *^k  on 
Terr/s."  '       '  ^*^  '  ^  certamly  didn'f  expect  t6  on 

kenl^ce''"''  '^"°^-3'-  ^on't  kno.-.'  she  said  in  a  bro. 
f^o^XJTLlirL^'''''  TTf«^^^^  an  impatient 


-s  «  ,i-« 


-,<«1(.lv«   .-1 


■cl?^"«tf;?*'^,f^'>^»  .f 


.;  •M'^-«^^\t^'--,5^  V')f 


.  UGHTLY  WON,  UGHTLY  LOST.  ^„ 

'  îînfr  f  'P°l^  •  "'  f  ""f  '^^  °°  '■«^son  to  complain.     Hère  is  a 
note  from  him,  by  the  way,  to  you."  nere  js  a 

.h.       P'-^ented  her  the  letter,  and  sat  watching  her  while  "^ 

tas  short  :  '  ""^  '^'''^  '"^^^  ^^^  ^^^i^»^  °^  ^If  ch4     lî 

timé^^??^  1^^'*''  P^^'^^^  =-^^  has  told  you  ail  by  this 
time.     If  he  loves  her,  and  is  good  to  her  I  ask  no  mnri 

L'irs°L';^i,î^î^  ^°'^  '^•™'  heSutwïr  t^  : . 

one  ioves  nim  with  ail  her  innocent  heart.  and  -slïe  is  so-H^a^ 
to  me,  that  I  would  die  to  save  her  a  m^mën^nàin      LeTt 

FoT  °ou'i?;'h  ?^  '"^  f  ^^^'  ^'^^  triesTo^oHerov";:    -. 
th?«fo    '      r  .   *">'   ^^^'"^   whatever   upon    you  I  ask 

this  favor  of  you  in  return.     Corne  hère,  take  her  ïoyour 

"Terry." 
She  sank  back  on  her  sofa,  crushed  the  letter  in  her  hand 
laid  her  face  aga.nst  the  cushions,  and  burst  inîo  an  ur^e 
stramed  passion  of  tears.     Eric  arôse  angrily  to  his  feet 
.h,   K-"  '  "°^««ta"d  this,"  he  said.     -  Wha°  is  Dennison 

Eric,  before  I  go  to  dress ?"  ^  '       **  ^°  ^>^» 

«hjlT!!'^  ^^^  "  "^I^y  ""'"^^  y°"  accompany  me  to  Lincoln- 
^hire  to-morrow,  and  formally  receive  CrKstal  as  my  betrothed 

înil^  '*°°'^  haughtily  erect  before  her-a  young  Sultan  issu- 
^.•"l'itr^^y  k'°™™*"^^  '^  ^'  womankind.^ 
else?'^     ^°'     '^^  ^'^^'^^  ^"^^^y-     "^s  there  anything         ^ 

feùow   i^?  •       '  *  «^eakness  of  Miss  Forrester^s  taxibiS  a 

Tjie  voujhful  autocrat  musM?fr  obeyedr    With  â  weanr 
«gh  Udy  Dynely  sought  eut  Miss  Fo^sL  anS  foîod  ST 


4.^ 


-  '  •       (f   i^   ,■>        < 


»;■ 


</■"  ■  •-•^■"^:f'^^<ï~;  ■  :'^^!w^^U':.i 


2ïi 


^'^^^^^'^^>.  z/tfisrrzKzojT: 


felljn  Iote'nïiSn'^w;eî'"^"'"  ™>'  ^^^^^  ^"«^ered;  '«he 
piqt^L^^^^^^^^^  ^-«^ed,-  and  ,et  with  a  touch  of  ren.ini.e 

"I  knew  it.     T  fejf  ù  ,•     », 
phedc  souI-  "  '"  ^he  uttermost  depth  of  m>  pro. 

"  ' Oh'  Sv  F°"'^'.^''^Jo^-Wted, 
^1,  my  Eric,  mine  no  more.' 


I  said. 


her,  to?  i!;f  ,,  ^î;>-«  js  too  bad  ,  too  bad  ,-too  bad  of 

My  poor,  g^od  Terry  ,  "         °^  ^''  «eighbor's  one  ewre  lamb 

^.  "i;!^wSj;S.rd%'c\t^^^^^^^^^^  tears. 

him  djshonorable.     For  her  "  conî   '^'?  '  "  ^  "*^^^  '^ought 
could  hâve  been  worth  one  S.,„XST''^'  ;;  ^'^^  "^^^^ 
J  hâve  had  a  letter  îxo^tI^T^^I^  Dennison." 

„  /  ""  "'"'  go,  of  course  ?" 
own."        W^^  ^^^<^"°t>  I  am  sure,  potlt  aU  on  ^S 


SÉ^'-ÀW^Î-^l--*.  s:A  :'h><  ^<-\-;  .^f^il7.t?a'^~^  »'-  "  -^  1^' 


4 


'*^-v 


o^. 


r 


>«' 


.SA,, 


^^  -Jf^    V-       yi. 


LIGHTLY  WON,  LIGHTLY  LOST. 


213 


Not  m  fhe  least  on  my  own,"  France  said,  hoMing  hef 
ha^dsoiiie  head  high,  her  dark  eyes  still  full  of  indignanffire. 

But  Terr>.loved  ihis  g.rl.and  Terry-I  must  say  it,  though 
I  offend  yow,  Lady  Dynçly-is  worth  two  hutidred  Erics. 
Oh,  it  is  a  shajne— a  shame  1  "  f- 

They  met  at  dinner.     Mfss  forrester's  greeting  w«s  of  tbe^ 
coldest  and  most  constrainei?.     Eric  was  his  own  natural, 
languid,  charming  self,  at  his  best.     His  raothefs  sad,  pale 
face  he  wauld  not  see,  France's.  flushed  cheeks  and  angry 
eyÇs  he  overtooked. 

"  It  takes  two  to  mak^  a  row,"  Eric  thought  ;  "  you  won't 
niake  a  row  with  me."  o     »     / 

Once  France  spoke  of  Terry— her  bright,  angiy  eyes 
fixed  upon  his  face,  her  own  wearing  a  very  resolute  look. 
Where  was  TenW  How  had  he  left  him  ?  Where  was  he 
gomg  ?  When  did  he  fnean  to  return  ?  Eric  bore  it  heroi- 
cally.  Y  *- 


"  lo  paean, 
Terry  1  Terry  l» 


he  laughed.     «  How  you  ring  the  changes  )on  that^tasM«&l 
name.,    I  don  t  know  anything  of  Tèoy's  tiutgoings  and  in*^ 
commgs.     Am   I  nrty  brother-s  keeper?     Your  solicitude 
dofs  Mr.  Dennison  too  much  honor." 

She  turned  from  him.  ~  ^ 

«  He  bas  no  heart,'.'  she  thought  ;  «  no  seflSe  of  remorse  v 
no  fee  ing  for  any  human  being  but  himself.     I  pity  Mis? 
Crj'stal  Higgjns."  ,, 

The  çycïïing  brought  Mr.  Locksley,  the  artist. 
V  "So  he  cornes  still,"  Eric  thought,  watching  with  sleepy, 
half,closed  eyes  his  mother  and  the  artist  playing  chess. 
while  France  sat  at  the  piano  and^ng  softly.  "I  wonder 
~I  wonder  if  this  is  the  secret  Ofyôur  queenly  indifférence. 
Miss  Forrester,  to  me."  '  v  vc, 

Next  day  Lady  Dynely  and  her  son  departed.  France 
watched  Kric  out  of  sight  with  a  smUe,  thefag  end  pf  an  çAi 
bajiM  on  h;r  bps  ;     \ 


:>*?: 


••  '  L«;htly  woi^d  lightly  làst, 
A  tair  good-night  to  tbee.'  " 


i^^0^l^,^  vf*^  ;^. 


'^  '*^î*f r^.^ 


'^•^-V:-.- 


•  * 


GHAPTER  XIV. 

"  OKCK.  MORE  THE,  GATE  BEpiND  ME  FALLS." 

N  that  pleasant  upper  room  of  Dvni>lv  akk 
apart  as  Mr.  Lockslev's  studio  oS  •  ^  ^^}^y'  ^* 
to  that  artist  anH 'K  ^  ^  studio,  ahd  sacred  wholly 

day  that  took  Lad^fe^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
He  stood  with  folded  arms  ^«  S^"  *?  Lmcolnshire. 
gazing  at  his  ownVork     AàtjSt  ^^«"««^'f"!  look, 
erect,  the  soldierly  air  thât  toM  «f  f^     ^^^'^'  ^*^"'  ^trong, 
nmnifest  thab  ever  **  °^  ^'^  P^*'  *=*"'"ig  ^as  moré' 

4'ïorS:!ilsTwo%'o^^^^^^  ^han  an  ordi. 

ney.     It  had  been  ITabor  of'.f     ï^  ^f  Reynolds  or  Rom-  ' 
in  the  work.  and  Ve  rtu  t1  ^ha^^^^^^^^^^    T'  ï^'  ^^- 
hands  seldom  do.  satbfied  himself  °'^'  °^  "'*''" 

•pression,    He  harcSûgÏÏÏ^^L^^^^^^^^^^^ 
«Parkleà-eyeand  smil%  thn^K  Î7.    ?''•  .*^*  mischievouj'^ 
gracefu.  he/d!  \"s'  Z^^td^t^l^tr  ^t^"'''  °^  *l 

UiS8om^^thoûghtsand3;daith^^^^^^  they  understood 

P~"d  of  £SffiyL^«'*u'=1.  %rrester.     Proud  she  îs, 
^and  the  «fi^^liri'^t^"?^f  **' "^«  l^^hind  h5 

mission  fprh.8  «iffe|ing,  thTwouId^ 


ànd  amaze 


>A 


M^"^ 


•V. 


O^  7!fi  BEHlND  ME  FALLS. 


2ïS; 


JM!!r.*v"  u     J^^""  Partîng  words.     Ana  yet   I  hâve 

tiraft^that  if  she  knew  ail,  thç^hole  truth"— he  paused 

r?.  wVir  f  **,  turned  impatiently  »way  tow^s  the  window. 

What  a  fool  \  ani,"  he  muttered,  half-aloud.     "  She  loves 

thathandsome  dandy,  of  course— he  is  the  sortof  cilded  foo 

lIslThi"?  "'"*''''  '''°^'  °^'     ^°"'^  ^  "^*  '^^  '^'^  ^''^^^'' 

gardfeii,  ail  ablaze  with  gorgécAis  Augufet  flowers.  It  was 
a  çultry,  overcast  day— sunless,  windless,  gray.  Early  in  the 
moroing  ^he  sun  had  corne  out  with  a  dazzling  briffhtness. 
only  to  v«iish  again  and  leave  behind  a  low,  leaden  stv! 
frowning  yith  drifting  cloud.  ^ 

Thè  great  house  was  very  still.     My  lord  and  lady  had 
.     gone;   Miss  Forrester's  clear  voice,  and  the  light,  îilken 
rustle  pf  her  garments  were  nowhere  to  be  heard.     She  was' 
not  to  sit  to  Mr.  Locksley  any  more  ;  the  last  sitting  had 
been  given  a  week  ago,  and  though  he  still  came  daily  it 
was  but  to  add  thç  few  last  finishing  touches  to  his  perfecfed 
work.     He  dmed  with.the  two  ladies  at  întervals,  and  spent 
occasimal  evenings  at  the  Abbey  when  there  were  no  other 
visitoi^  From  gênerai  society  he  shrank;  but  he-never 
refused  my  lad/s  cordial  invitations  when  she  and  her  ward 
were  aloi)e.    It  might  hâve  been  wiser  if  he  had.     Thev 
were  growing  dangerously  dear  to  him,  thèse  long  tôte-Vtête 
fv  dJlf7" V'^.*'^^'^''  °^  Caryllyne  ;  perilousiy  precious, 
^llr  t™  W''l?,*'*^^'"™'"8  °^^^  he/«.usic  listening  to 
.  'î'^the  old  ballads  she  loved  to  sing,  watchingthe  white,  flying 
.     fingers  the  tender,  lovely,  spirited  fece-hW  dear,  hôw  pr| 
cious,  he  was  findmg  out  now  to  his  côst.  - 
He  turned  from  the  window  and  began  pacing  impatientlv 
^      up  and  down  the  long,  lofty  room.  ^n  tpite  of  the  widï 
open  wmd<Sw  the  atmosphère  was  almost  painfully  oppres- 
sive     So  suUry,  se  airless  was  the  leàden  day,  that  i t  was 
Zl}\  ''\fT  """^  ^^^^V**^  *»'**'*^«-    The  physical  suffering 
Wh.^^'^  rï^  ^^^  "^"^-     ^*  ï«>«^°èd  the  strip  of  black 
nbbpn  at  his  throat,  as  though, even  that  ^ufforated  hin^ 


T^B^WlSHlgWleWtïi^^ 

had  shut  his  eyes  wlfuUy  to  his  own  danger;  the  moth\had 


*~>. 


\ 


î^ 


rL'-T  *.^:'*^^;  ^^  "«^«.^'Cvâ^t.'f-.'     -^i'^Ç'""^,--^'^'!^ 


21 


,r«ff  (y^r^  BEHIND  ME  PALLS. 


■      V:. 

«een  tfie  lîghted  candie,  and  intoxicated  by  itsj)rilliancy, 
had  stîll  flo^9  headlong  in.  Was  the  moth  to  be  pitied, 
men,  llet  himi^inge  bis  wings  ever  so  \badly  ? 

"  I  >ill  go  F'  he  said  to  himself,  abruptly,  "  I  will  go  to- 
inoirqlw.  Flikbt  is  one's  only  safegiiard  in  thèse  things.  If 
I  stay,  if  I  seé  any  more  of  her  I  will  commit  the  last  crowfa- 
,  ing  act  of  foUy,  and  tell  her  ail.  My  work  is  finished— there 
IS  no  caupe  to  linger.  Yes,  I  will  go— I  will  start  for  Spaki 
to-morrow,  and  explore  it  from  the  Escurial  to  the  Alham- 
bra,  and  in  painting  dark-eyed  Morisco  maidens  and  bull- 
fights  I  will  forget  this  summer's  fooling." 

He  looked  at  his  watch— two  o'clock.  Three  was  bis 
dinner  hour— it  would  tak'e  hira  the  hour  to  walk  to  the 
village.  He  made  his  headquajters  at  the  "Kiddle-a- 
wmk"  in  the  village  of  Dynely,>nd  slept  in  that  upper 
chamber  wherein  sixteen  years  before,  one  summer  night, 
.Alexis  Dynely  lay  dying. 

A^he  passed  out  from  the  hduse  into  the  sultry  afternoon, 
he.  glanoe^  up  at  the  sky.  It  was  growing  darker  eveiy 
instant — a  faint,  damp  rairi  was  beginning  to  fall.  It  was 
doubtful,  good  walker  though  he  was,  if  he  would  outstrip 
tlie  storm  and  reach  the  inn  before  the  summer  rain  fell. 
He  looked  .around  as  he  walked  rapidly  away,  to  catch  a 
glimpse  ofa  gauzy  dress,  to  hear  a  girl's  sweet  voice  sin^ng, 
to  see  a  graceful  head  bent  over  a  book  or  a  drawing.  Miss 
Forrester,  however,  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  It  was  a£  well 
so,  perhaps. 

"I  will  call  this  evening  and  make  my  adieux  to  both    ^ 
ladies,"  he  thought,  and,  pûlling  his  bat  over  his  eyes,  strode 
rapidly  on  his  way. 

Yes,  he  would  leave  England  on  the  morrow — for  good 
and  ail  this  tinie.  Where  was  the  use  of  coming  back, 
where  the  sight  of  the  familiar  places,  the  familiar  faces  that 
knew  him  no  more,  brought  nothing  but  pain  ?  He  would 
make  Rome  his  headquarters  for  life,  and  give  himself  up 
Mtterly  to  his  art.  A  boy's  mad  folly,  a  wonian's  base 
deceit  had  wrecked  his  life  sixteen  years  ago.  He  had  been' 
Jhfnst^.QHt  /rom  hi8  mother's^home  and  hor^^»itk^ 


»nd  bitter  .words,  his  birthright  given  to  a  stranger.    It 


^  a*.   *  J  K         L*     ''  -v 


■  '    ■    -Il  m    f  .... 


-    ,-!  '      .     ••»,'(1,\    .?>'' 


TITE  GATE  BEHIND  ME  FALLS. 


217 


never  ocçurred  to  hira  to  sue  for  commutation  of  that 
sentence  With  the  past  he  had  nothing  to  do;  he  had 
deserved  his  fate,  he  had  disgraced  his  name;  his  niother 
had  done  rightly;  m  the  future  the  art  he  loved  was  ail  he 
had  left  him.     He  would  start  upon  his  Second  exile  to-mor- 

'?\  7JT  Vv^  ^''^'■^  '^°"^'^  ^^  "°  '°°''>»«  back,  this  time 
it  should  be  life-long.  To  return  to  England  meant  return- 
mgto  see  her  the  happy  wife  of  Lord  Dynely;  to  returiT 
and  sue  for  his  mother-s  favor,  meant  to  oust  her  from  her 
fortune,  to  rake  up  ail  the  old  dead-and-gone  scandai  to 
bnng  the  shame  from  which  that  mother,  the  haughtiest 
woman  m  Engl^nd,  had  iled  sixteen-years  before,  back  to 
her  m  its  first  force.  No,  there  was  nothing  for  him  but 
silence  and  exile  to  the, end. 

"Mr.  Locksley?"   -jv. 

The  clear  sweet  voicei  made  him  toôi  up  from  his  hioodv 
rêverie  with  a  start.  And  then,  like  a  vision,  Franœ  For- 
rester's  bnghtly  smiling  faCe,  set  io  a  ravishing  bon- 
net,  beamed  upon  hmi.  Miss  Forrester,  with  a  tiny  groom 
behmd  her,  drove  a  low,  basket  phaeton  and  a  pair  of 
spankmg  httle  ponies.  She  drew  up  the  ponies  in  dashine 
style,  and  turned  to  the  artist  with  that  bewitching  sraile  o( 

"Are  you  going  home,  Mr.  Locksley— I  mean  to  the  inn  ? 
Pray  don  t  go  just  yet.  LeU  me  oflfer  you  this  vacant  seat 
1  nave  somethmg  to  say  to  you." 

Was  fotp  pursuing  him  when  he  meant  to  fly  from  danger? 
He  took  the  seat  beside  her,  and  Miss  Forrester  with  a 
ahead  Parasol-whip,  sent  the  little  steppers  briskly 

"  I  am  alone  to-day— do  you  know  it?    And  as  I  didn't 
cxpect  even.  your^society,  Mr.   Locksley-I  came  away. 
r  They  left  by  the  eîlVly  train  this  raorning."  ' 

«They— who?"  ^ 

.u  "  ^u^y  Dynely  and  Eric.     Ôh,  you  don't  know,  then— I 
thwght  perhaps  she  had  told  you  over  your  chessmen  last 
^^ng.     Yes,  they  started  for  Lincolnshire  this  mnrning— 
^^tâWgone  a  week  at  the  leas't;  and  I  am  queen  reg?nt 
■lonarch  of  alft  survey,  until  their  return.    The  first  W  l 


"^^ 


y^â 


f^^Hmm^Mféi'''-'^^'3. 


^^0^S!mssg^m^Mim»^  ^ 


■'   ""l  -.  .    '  '    ^ 


,.. 


2l8 


r/œ  C^r^  BEMIND  ME  FALLS. 


make  of  iny  liberty  is  to  spend  a  whole  long  day  at  dear  old 
Caryllynne.  It  is  not  nearJy  so  ancient  nor  so  stately  as  the 
Abbey,  but  I  love  it  a  hundred  times  more.  Hâve  you  ever 
been  there,  Mr.  Locksley  ?  " 

She  looked  up  at  him,  half  wondering  at  the  dark  gravity 
of  bis  face. 

"  I  bave  been  there,  Miss  Forrester." 
"  Indeed  !     Strange  that  Mrs.  Matthews,  the  housekeeper, 
told  me  nothing  about  it." 

"  I  hâve  not  been  in  the  house." 

"  Then  you  hâve  missed  an  artistic  treat.  The  CarylJ 
picture  gallery  is  the  pride  of  the  neighborhood  ;  there  is 
nothing  like  it  in  the  whole,  country.  Mrs.  Caryll,  as  I  hâve 
told  you,  is  really  a  devotee  of  art,  and  always  was.  There 
are  Cuyp's,  and  Wouvefniain's,  and  Sir  Joshua's  portrait,* 
and  sunsets  by  Turner,  and  sunrises  by  Claude  Lorraine,  a 
gallery  of  modem  and  a  gallery  of  Venetian  art.  Oh,  you 
j-eally  must  see  it,  and  at  once.  I  shall  drive  you  over  and 
play  cicérone.  Nothing  I  like  so  well  as  showing  the  dear, 
romantic  old  Manor." 

"  You  are  most  kind.  Miss  Forrester,"  he  said,  with  a  sort 
of  effort,  "but  it  is  quite  impossible.  I  mean,"  seeing  her 
look  of  sjurprise,  "  that  as  I  leave  Devonshire  to-morrow,  I 
will  havej  no  time.  Wandering  artists  don't  Iceep  valets,  so 
I  must  atoend  to  the  packingo^y  own  portraanteau,  and  that, 
with  somè  letters  to  write,  will  detain  me  until  midnight." 

He  wai  not  looking  at  her,  else  he  might  hâve  «een  and 
possiWy  ùnderstood  the  swift,  startled  pallor  that  came  over 
her  face.  ' 
"  You  are  going  away  ?  "  she  said,  slowly. 
'*  The  portrait  is  finished,  my  work  hère  is  done.  I  owe 
Lady  Dynely  and  you,  Miss  Forrester,  many  thanks  for  your 
kind  efforts  to  render  my  sojourn  agreeable." 

"  If  Lady  Dynely  were  hère,"  Miss  Forrester  answered, 
her  color  returning,  and  in  her  customary  gay  manner,  "  she 
would  say  the  thanks  were  due  you,  for  helping  to  while  ' 
away  two  poor  women's  long,  duU  evenings,  Isrft  it  father 
a  P"y  to  go  before  she  retums  }  She  wJU  regret  it  cxtremely, 
TTktiûw,  "  '~       . 


J^i^S.   i  ^^\l^^   4.1     ^^'i^^k^î-^. 


:o-morrow,  I 


*   -.  ,' 


'^^P^^^^^''. 


7WB   GAr£  BEHIND  ME  FALLS.  2IQ 

"I/I  had  known  of  thîs  sudden  departure,  l'would  hâve 
made  my  adieux  to  her  ladyship  last  night.  May  I  further 
trespass  on  your  great  kindness,  Miss  Forrester,  and  charge 
}0u  with  my  farewell?"  ^ 

She  bent  her  head  and  set  her  Hpsa  little  as  she  eut  the 
ponies  shaip  y  with  her  whip.     It  had  corne  «pon  her  almost 

^  Éfe  *    -'    ù-^'",?"^^"  révélation,  but  her  pride  and  thor- 
• .  ,0!^  traimng  hid  ail  sign. 

^^^lÂ!!^  T  'îH^gyPfies-ever  on  the  wing-tliat  I  know 
cj  old.     And\whuher  do  you  go,  Mr.  Locksiey  ?    Baok  to 

?fXB?ompTo>' ^^'^  '""'  "'  ^'^  '"''^"'^  surround.ngs 
"  Farther  stiU,"  he\id,  with  a  smile  ;  "  to  Spain.     I  hâve 
roamed  almost  over  evVy  quarter  of  the  habitable  globe  in 
my  forty  years  of  life,  but  Spain  is  stiU  a  terra  incognita.     I 
hâve  had  an  mtense  désire  ever  since  I  gave  myself  ifp  wholly 
to  art  to  make  a  walking  tour  over  the  country.    One  should 
find  a  thousand  subjects  there  for  brush  and  pencil." 
..ï?nPf  "'"  f *^e  fepeated,  mechanically  ;  "and  then?" 
WelMcanhardlysay.     I  shall  dévote  a  year  at  least  to 
bpain,  and  then  most  probably  I  shall  return  to  Rome  and 
make  itmy  headquarters  for  life." 
oi^^*"!  ^*5'/t^d   silence.    The    ponies  bowled   swiftly 

S  '  T\  ^^^*  '^1  ^°  ^'^^  ^"'^^  '^^^  •«"g  been  passed. 
NeiU^ernoticed  ,t  The  thcnightful  gravity  had  de^pened 
on  h;s  face.  Her  hands  grasped  the  reins  tightly,  her  lips 
were  set  ma  certam  ngid  line.  Her  voice,  when  she  spoke 
again,  had  lost  somewhat  of  its  clear,  vibrating  ring 

'You  picture  a  very  delightful  future,  Mr.  Locksiey;  I 
alnaost  envy  you  Oh,  no  need  to  look  incredulous-the 
Bohemian  life  is  the  freest,  brightest,  happieston  earth,  but  it 
nriSll      •?«•  ^.What  I  waylaid  you  for_to  return  to  first 

gardian,  Mrs.  Caryll,  and  she  begs  mé  to  sénd  her  a  dupli- 
cate  of  my  portrait.  She  has  one,  but  that  was  pain^ed  fiv« 
E  ^u'  *"4.I  j'av.e  been  chanting  the  praises  of  your 
^handiwork  until  she  is  seized  with  l  lon/ng  for  .  .Ly 
"Txm.  natter  'm»'*!»!  <>hapm;n,vT»  -»- _..__*'  w     -.      ."  v*^ 


ih^  -°«^™f  se  diarmingly  on  canvas,  Mr.  Lock^ 
IhaXI  rcally  should  hke  to  gratify  her  if  it  were  possible  tô 


ri*/- 


téeSj^^  <„ 


It^^bAK^w^^ 


/  m 


220 


THE  GATE  BEHIND    ME  FALlS. 


procure  her  the  copy.     But  I  suppose  ail  that  is  out  of  thô 
question  now." 

"  Mrs.  Caryll  shall  hâve  the  copy.  I  trust  she  is  weli.  I 
saw  her  so  often  in  Rome,"  he  said,  half  apologetically. 
"that  I  take  an  interest  in  her  naturally." 

"She  is  as  well  as  she  is  ever  likely  to  be,"  France  an- 
swered,  rather  sadly,  "and  so  lonely  without  me  that  I  think 
of  throwmg  over  everything  and  going  back  to  join  her.  I 
should  infinitely  prefer  it,  but  she  will  not  hear  of  it  and 
neither  will  Lady  Dynely.  I  must  remain,  it  seems,  and  run 
the  round  of  Vanity  Fair  whether  I  wish  it  or  not.  I  ought 
not  to  complam— I  did  enjoy  last  season.  Come  what  will  " 
with  a  half  laugh,  "  I  hâve,  been  bleseed."  ' 

"  Mrs.  Caryll  has  no  intention  then  of  returnine  to 
England?"  * 

She  will  never  return.  It  is  fuUofbitter  associations  for 
her.     It  would  break  her  heart  to  see  poor  old  Caryllynne." 

"  She  still  takes  her  son' s  wrongdoing  so  much  to  heart— 
she  is  stiU  so  bitter  against  him  ?  Pardon  me,  Miss  Forres- 
ter,  I  ha^e  heard  that  story,  of  course." 

"  There  is  no  apology  needed.     You  will  wonder,  perhaps 
r  T  "  i  T  y°"'  y°"  remind  us  ail  of  him.     That  is  the  secret 
of  Lady  IDynely's  interest  in  you  from  the  first." 
c  ^'^^^î*^'"'  Pfnetrating,  hazel  eyes  were  fixed  fuU  on  his 
lace.     That  tramed  face  never  irfoved  a  muscle. 
^    "As  to  being  bitter  against  him,"  pursued  France,  "it  is 
just  the  reverse.     It  is  remorse  for  her  own  cruelty  that 
dnves  lier  nearly  to  despair  at  times.     For  she  was  cruel  to 
him,  poor  fellow,  when  he  came  to  her  in  his  great  trouble 
and  shame— most  cruel,  most  unmotherly.     He  came  to  her 
m  his  somow  and  humiliation,  and  she  drove  him  from  her  with 
bitter  scorn  and  anger.     That  is  the  thought  that  blights  her 
Me,  that  has  preyed  upon  her  health,  that  makes  the  thought 
of  home  horrible  to  her.    She  drove  him  from  her  into  poverty 
and  exile  hère,  and  hère  ^h«  will  never  return.    A  thousand 
Urnes  she  has  said  to  me,  that,  tô  look  upon  his  face  once 
more,  to  hold  hun  in  her  arms,  to  hear  him  sayhe  forgave 
her,  die  Would  give  up  her  vent  life,  give  up  ail  thinga  exc«tpt 


à:---t-^ 


.>'{.*■..-    % 


\. 


t  is  OUt  of  th« 


■i   i 


>  1    j    » 


y 


THE  GATE  BEHlND  ME  PÀLLS. 


221 

" She  has  said  that  ?" 

She  was  too  wrapped  in  her  subject  to  heed  his  huskv 
vojce  to  mark  the  change  that  had  cime  over  his  face  ^ 
Again  and  agam.  The  hope  of  seeing  him  once  more  is 
the  sole  hope  that  keeps  her  alive." 

"  She  thinks  that  he  is  still  living  ?" 

"She  thinks  it.     Every  year  since  that  time.  with  the  ex- 

rCr'trbk'r  'f  '  '^  ^^^  r^  ^^^  -»-  r^membranc^r 
tl  l  ^  î- .^^  '  ^  *^°'^'^'"'  ^  to'^e"  of  som^sort  to  let  her 
know  he  st.ll  e>«sts.  Those  tokens  hâve  corne  to  her  from 
every  quarter  of  the  globe.  India,  Africa.  America?  and  aU 
coimtnes  of  Europe.  There  is  never  an  ad^Ss-merelv 
the  post-mark  to  dénote  whence  they  came,  andïfs  name  n 
hjs  own  fam.har  hand.  Ah  !  ifwe  but  knew  where  o  Cîfôr 
him-svhere  to  find  hiu,.  I  ,believe  I  would  trlve  Ithe  widé 
car  h  over  , fat  the  end  I  could  find  Gordon  Caryll." 

u  ^T  ^^'■'■^s*^'"  J  yo"  would  do  this  ?  " 
A  hundred  tmies  more  than  this  !     He  was  my  hero  Mr  ' 
Locksley,  as  far  back  as  I  can  remember.    There  is  no  one 
in  ail  the  world,  I  long  so  to  see."  ' 

"  A.id  yet  the  day  that  finds  him  robs  you  of  a  fortune  " 
eye^ai°excl5''/'K'"'  indignantly.  in.petuous  tears  in  her 
tha?h?h:?evt  tt  he"."''"  '"^'  ^'^^^''  "''^^  •^-"^'^"^ 

thânlhat'?""  Oh  I  ^K  .^°*'''?/^'  ^?  y°"  ^''•"'^  "°  be«er  of  me 
than  that  ?    Oh  J  what  would  a  million  fortunes  be  to  the  joy 
of  seemg  him  once  more_of  restoring  him  to  his  motî.eH 
otîS?^^T"r  ;V"^'."^'"^-°"'^  ^^'^  in%rust.     One  diy  o 
shaSUItis  o^ :2ai?.'?^'  ^''  -^-"'  -^  ^«^^  '  ^^e  \^, 

Sou^h  «h.  i^'u^  T'^  *'^^"  '"^^"««  admiration  surely, 
though  she  read  that  there  plainly  enough.  It  brouirht  he^ 
down  from  her  heroics.  from  doudland  to  farth,  f  onTromLce 


4' 


X 


J;.r 


'â,mÉè^^éM. 


-+. 


222 


r/œ  'GATE  BEHIND  ME  FALLS. 


He  touchedtlie  reins  lightly  with  bis  hsfnd,  andchecked  her 
m  tne  act  pf  turning.     * 

"Excuse  me,  Miss  Forrdsterj  I  hâve  changed my  mind 

r?sist  no  longer.  .  Smce  you  are  so  kind  as  to  be  niy 

'     Sîture  "        ^      ^  ^°  '""'^  ^°"  *°  Carryllynne  and  see  the 

Slie  looked  ^t  him  again— rather  haughtily  it  seenied.     ' 

You  are-quite  sure  it  is your  wish,  Mr.  Locksley,  and  not 

a  matter  of  pohteness  ?    You  are  qaite  sure  it  wiU  not  incon- 

venienceyouatall?"  y^y-^^iy-yj» 

"  Quite  sure,  Migs  Forrester.     I  wish  to  go  " 
She  turned  without  a  w^rd  and  drove  on.     The  distance 
was    Short.       In    a  -few   minufes   the   great   Manôr  gâtes 

lîorn/T  ?'^"^°n^'^"  instant  too  soon.  The  summer 
storm,  threatenmg  ail  day,  was  upon  them  at  last.  As  thev 
passed  beneath  the  lofty  arch  of  masonfy^  two  great  drops 
splashed  upon  their  faces.         '  ^  ^ 

They  sped  up  the  avenue,  beneath  the  dark  waving  trees, 
at  iill  speed.  A  groom  came  out  to  take  the  horses  TwJ 
or  three  old  servants,  on  board  wages,  still  kept  up  the  place, 
^ot  an  instant  too  soon  ;  the  ratn  was  beginning  to  fail 
dl?k'i!r*''  *  ^^^  ^""^  ''^^^"^  Ii|ïtnin|cut  the 

«nH  K  "7kI  ''""■^  '  "  ""^^  ^^'^  Forrester's  cry,  as,  laughing 
and  breathless,  she  ran  up  the  steps.  "  Welcome  to  Cary? 
lynne,  Mr.  Locksley!"  "v-«tryi 

He  retuoved  his  hat  with  a  certain  révérence,  as  thougli^ 
r.J      l"',^*'^"'■*''''  ^^°*'°"  «"  '^is  face  shecould  i£t 
o«!r'  I,?         J^î  ""^^  '"*°  ^^^  ^as'  tJ'ed  haU,  the  black 
and  white  marble  floormg  covered  with  skins  of  wild  beasts. 

Mrs.  Mathews,  the  housAeeper,  came  forwjrdto  receive 
ner  young  lady.  /  ^ 

"  We  hâve  corne  to  see  the  pictures,  Mrs.  Mathews."  '' 

lundi      Th^U  M  '';'"^^  "'"'*  ^'^  y°"  *°  ^ive  us  somc 
S  1"  ^'■-  ï-ocksley,  and  as  Mr.  Locksley  has  not 

dined,  pray  feive  us  something  that  will  serve  as  a  substitute." 

fteie.      She  bowed  deferentially,  her  eyc»  fixed  upon  Mr. 


:hecked  her 

d  ray  mind 
i  to  be  nry 
ind  see  the 

emed. 
ey,  and  not 
1  not  incon- 


r^E  GATE  BEkiND  ME  FALLS, 


223 


.      V 

Ix>cksley  with  a  cunously  intense  gaze.  As  she  turned  awav 
6he  met  her  daughter,  also  domesticated  hère 

"  Who  is  it  mother ?  "  thç  girl  asked.  "  Wlio  is  the  gen- 
tleman?     Lord  Dynely— Mr.  Dennison  ?  " 

"Neither,"  her  mother  answered.  "His  name  is  Mr. 
I^cksley;  and  if  eyer  1  saw  one  Uian's  eyes  in  anothei 
mans  head,  he  has  the  eyéa  of  Mr.  Gordon  CaiylL" 


«  «'■  ■ 


le  distance 
inor  gâtes 
e  summer 
As  they 
;reat  drops 

ving  trees, 
>es.  Two 
the  place, 
ng  to  fall 
t}g  eut  the 

,  laughing 
!  to  Caryl- 

is  though^ 
:ould  not 
the  black 
d  beasts. 
o  receive 


[athews," 
tu-bound 
us  some 
V  has  not 
bititute." 
sekêeper- 
pon  Mr. 


Mi 


-X 


'^ 


■  tti!^.*^        .li'-r 


P*    -r^ 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  STAY." 

gtesses  and  «ower^  heedki  of  hoî  ^JP   ^  ""  '""'  ^""l 

was  i V  enlirely  ow  o?  her^art  t  ^hI°T'''"'  ''?"!''' 
She  Jrould  put  off  aU  thoV.lL'^if     t  .      '''*'"*  "^  ''"«• 

Car^irs  teiS  ha^  pùcedrèm  ll'="'^'"'=--''  '»"  "  «"• 

fashioned,  and  quaintrand  A„^r  .„j  <-.j.r    7."""S 
„godern  n^» 


o.d.fa^io„^d^,^iiJ^^^ve5j«.,„g 
^•«^^ot^ieBdor  anywhefê,Tâne  yet  iwice  a» 


\ 


*C'» 


r 


"^•TWK.'» 


225 


the  Abbey.     Everylh.ng  is  jiiSt  as   it  was   left  when    she 
went  away-this  room  and  hef  roo^j.     In  Gordon'"  too 
poor  fellow,  nothmg  has  been  changed  "  ' 

Mr.  Locksley  looked  at  her-a  curious  smile  on  his  face 
^l^iJS^f.^^Pr^^s^on  in  his  eyes,  half  cynical,  half  sad  ' 

What  an  interest  you  seem  to  take  in  Gordon  CarvOl 
Miss  Forrester-this  black  sheep  of  a  spotless  flock  this  S 
scapegoat  ff  an  irreproachable'  family!^    Was  he  worlhy  ol 

T  'Ti°'*  T''^  ^^  'î'  ^  ^^  ^"^«-  ^e  was  unfortunate  Mr 
Locksley  ;  he  rumed  himself  for  a  woman's  sake  I A  no; 
a  common   act  of  folly-nien   don't  do  that  nowldavs. 

tX'lT  y';^ '^  °'  "•  ^  '^^"^  ï  shoufd  like  them' a 
httle  better  if  they  were.     There's  a  sort  of  her6ism  after 

ail  about  a  man  who  deliberately  throws  up  ail  hi^^^^ 
pects  in  hfe  for  a  woman."  ?         ^  P'^*'^" 

h^v^^*^  ^°"?-^"'    ''^'■°'''"'  ^'5^   Forrester,  it  seemâ  to 

arkeroVndhfn'T-  ""^  *°"^  ^  '^^P  •"  ^he  dar^anS 
«iThîc^i  f  t  ^/"'"^^^"^  a  quagmire  of  disgrâce,  from  which 
ail  his  hfe  long  he  can  never  arise.     What  l  pretty  garden  » 

down  'Thf  ri  1,  °"'  °'  ^î^  "'"^^"^  ^"^  stoXSg 
down.  Jhe  Caryliynne  gardens  edvered  in  ail  some  half- 
dozen  acres,  utterly  neglected  of  late  years,  and  Tunnfng 
wiH  a  very  wilderness  of  moss-grown  paths,  tangled  rose! 
and  honeysuckles.  clematis  a?d  syringa,  fallen  statuel 
empty  marble  basins,   where  fountains^nce  had    been 

?u;^:;.:^irht^^^^^  -"''^  --^^^^^  -^^  -^  -^  p^arof 

«irTs'ïkin^o'ff'  ^^^'y*^^^^'"  F-^ance  said,  with  a  sigh. 
it  is  plam  to  be  seen  no  master's  eye  ever  rests  hère 
tit  dC'o?  rh°^  Caryliynne,  years  ago,  if  r.  LocklJy,  weS 
the  glory  of  the  place.     This  was  Mrs.  Caryll's  •  it  has  never 
been  kept  up  since  she  went  away."  ^      '  ^^' 

u  M  L^^"'  Miss  Forrester,  I  should  think  that— " 
nnrnl    n  S  ',  f'I  ^^  changed^nothing  altered  by  me.     As 
Je^^iti:ai.4  left,  ^  he  shall  find  it^eirftêcôiS^Wct^— 
You  are  so  sure  he  will  corne  back,  then  " 


i. 


"  As  gure  as  that  I 


stand  hère.     I  don't  tnow  why,  but 


"^''fel*' 


7^  T'-f^ 


~^ 


226 


"STAY.'* 


«  A^^'u^'"*"  ^  ^^'''^  ''"°'^"  ^hat  be  will  corne  back  » 
mothir  hap^;?"""  ""'  "^"^  ""«^^  ^°"---»y  --''-  his 

pierthan  any  hmg,"  she  paused  a  moinent  and  her  color 
.*^^      • ''^^  happier  than  anything  on  earth." 

fïapoy  man.     You  bave  nevêr  seen  hini— this  fomotten  exile 
m  WKom  you  take  so  deep  an  jnterest  ?"         '°'S°"^'' ""« 

eJIr  iL     K°^  ^""  ^'■°'"  "y  ^^'■"««^  childhood/and  when- 
everand  wherever  we  meet  I  shall  know  him.»        .,  * 

"  I  thmk  that,  Mr.  Locksïey."  -    ' 

tolë«hW^  wi»  hâve  changed-sixteen  years  and  moVe  îs  a 
îo  înf  !  r!*  ^°'  ^î''  Forrester,  you  might  meet  him  face 
Til  ;S  /°  K^  t^"'»^  hands,  and  still  be  as  strangers 

around   tbe  world,  leading   the  sort  of  Jife  he  bas  led.  l 
free  companion  a  solder  of  fortune,  will  change  any  mân 
M.SS  ton-ester,  believe  me,  wben  you  meet,  if  ever  you  do 
meet,  you  will  not  know  Gordon  Caryll  "  J'       iiu 

«oSv  ^T^"*  ^•^^"P''^-  .  '^^^  ^^'■^'  Penetrating  eyes  were 
watchmg  bim  ^ith  a  suspicious  intentness  he  did  not  care  to 

^T.rïr^°°  ^°K«^'  'î.^"*^'^  *^«"*  the  same  time,  or 
d^n  C^I??  »°''°''    ^  '"^"^  '"'•     ^'^  ^"^  ^^^^  °^«^t  Gor. 

suence — then  once  more  be  laugbed. 

"You  are  a  sorceress,  Miss  Forrester.    What  hâve  I 
saidtdmakeyoutbinkso?"  "«  nave  i 

==^ou  bayé  said  nothing;    And  y«--Mr.  Lootaé^r,  F^^SiT" 
know  anything  tell  me.    I  would  give  half  «.y  £  to  know!" 


W^,  ■•> 


^l^t. 


■%¥' 


>   .ifl;,'  'T  ■■    -     ■" 


f*t^ 


•■'^■■-.■..-■■.*^* 


4 


"SrAK" 


V 


217 


"Jnlndia?''sheasked. 

maVv"oi".ïiJ.  ""h^  "'"''  '^^'  ^'J"*^«^  '"^y  l'^ve  t>«n  the 

»^, .  '  ?.   f.    ■'^""  yet  I  know  from  certain  thirwsi»*. 

told  me  of  his  h,story  that  he  was  the  nian."  ^ 

to  England-of  his  semence  of  omlawn.  an  ™^e     I  kLow 
be  bo„ed  his  hcad  and  aSp.ed  L  dôor  î^ïaVd"  *oV 

than4n,n/    H   I       i^^^*  "^^*s  "^ofe  sinned  affainst 

'^^::Zs.  tx"  ^h'a^rd-rwS1;^'«■;''''' 

^n.sTS.ntah^afh'"''""'"'":,'"  "■'  "^"blt'nd    be 

.h.  o-ÏTbapMja'rKfoT^^^ 

ment,  to  receive  and  forgive  him  Jlin      nh   M^rf,^' 


•i 


.ff 


Stt'^r  >1.j3*^*  •" 


<^- 


"f-- 


'■"^'SSl —  — ' — 


'fi' 


^^Î^?*I 


3i28 


e*--^. 


i^^  ' 


-f' 


"  He  will  rob  you-of  a  noble  inheritance.  Hâve  yon  any 
right  to  throw  it  away  ?  What  will  Lord  Dynel  /  s^  to 
that?"  ^    ■  ^ 

"  Lord  Dynely  !  "  She  lôoked  at  him  in  ar^y  surprise. 
"  What  bas  Lord  Dynely  to  do  with  this  I  " 

"  Much,  since  he  bas  to  do  with  ydu.  The  day  that  rè. 
stores  Gordop  Caryll  to  bis  mother,  robs  you  of  half  your 
fortune." 

"  You  spoke  of  tbat  bçfore,  Mr.  Locksley.  Never  speak 
of  il  again.>  What  are  a  thousand  fortunes  cômpared  to  the 
right  ? — to  seeing  ber,  my  best  and  dearest  friend,  hapi>y, 
and  him  restored  from  wandering  and  exile  "to  his  own  ?" 

"  And  as  Lady  Dynely  you  can  afTord  to^be  inagnanimous 
— ^a^  fortune  more  or  lesscan  concern  you  li^tlé." 

She  looked  at  him  still  haughtily,  but  with  a  heart  begin- 
ning  to  beat  fast.  If  he  cared  nothing  for  her,  why  this  bitter 
tone,  this  pale,  stem  face  ? 

*•  As  Lady  Dynely.  There  is  some  mistake  hère,  Mr. 
Locksley.     I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

*•  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Forrester.  lé  îs  presumptuous, 
no  doubt,  in  me  to  allude  to  it,  \?ut  as  your  engageaient  to 
Lord  Dynely  is  no  secret,  J  may — " 

'   "My  engagement  to  Lord  Dynely!     Who  says  I  am  en-" 
gaged  to  Lord  Dynely?     I  am  nothing  of  the  sort.     Lord 
Dynely  if  engaged  to'  a  clergyman's  daughter  in  Lincoln- 
sbire." 

He  stoç^  still,  looking  at  her,  his'head  in  a  whirl,  wonder, 
incredulity,  bl^nk  aiiiaze  in  bis  face. 

"  There  wa^-  some  sort  of  fooHsb  compact  between  Mrs. 
Caryll  and  Lady  Dynely,"  proceeded  Miss  Forrester,  "to* 
marry  ^s  when  we  grew  up— a  compact  in  which  I  hâve  had 
no  part — and  which  we  never  c^ould  ratify.  Eric  and  I  bave 
grown  ùp  as  brother  and  sister-^more  thân  we  are  now  we 
never  will  or  could  be  to  each  other.  With  the  or(^ering  of 
vny  life  or  fortune,  Ag,  at  least,  Has  nothing  to  do." 

Thefe  was  a  moment's  pause — a  most  awkward  and  un- 
comfortàble  pa^se  for  Miss^Forrester.     Mr.  Locksley  stood 
rsfiU,  :|o  petrîfiéd  by  tbis  fudden  révélation    that  îi»  T»nr 
breoith  seemed  take'n  away. 


A<:iaW  '''    '■ 


'  V' 


\»       ,  .i^    ■*)     V^         i^  ■! 


*/srAY:'  , 


22Q 


|«I,tho«g(ht — I  thougbt,"  hc  said,  "you  love4  him." 

She  madê  nô  answer. 

"  I  thoûght  ypu^oved  him,"  he  went  on.  •*  I  thoiight  ypu 
were  eijgaged  fo  hiip.  And  last  night,  When  he  returned^  I 
fancied  I  read  new  happinesà  in  your  fate — that  his  coming 
had  brought  it;  and  it  was  more  than  I  could  bear.  I  had 
donè  with  loving — or  so  I  thought — donc  with  women  for- 
ever^  and  yet  l  accepted  Lady  Dynely's  jnvitation  and- 
came  down  hère.  And  I  thought  you  were'to  be  his  wife, 
that  ail  your  heart  was  his,  and  I—"  '      _ 

"Resolved  to  run  away  to  Sp|iin,  and  in  painting  dark- 
eyed  Spanish  donnas,  forget  Frante  Forrester,'^. 

She  laughed  as  slie  spoke.  Her  dark  ^Cc  i*iras  flushëd, 
but  the  old,  gay,  mischief-lôvrng  spirit  was  bàck.  She  could 
not  look  at  her  lover,  but  she  could  laugh  at  hîm. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  moodlly,-*''there  ar^  some  dangers  from 
which  flight  is  the  only  safeguard.  You,  a  ieealthy  heiress 
te  your  first  youth — I;  a  man  of  forty,  poor,  unknown,  an 
artist  whose  brush  brings  him  the  bread  he  éats.  You  can- 
not  realize  more  fuUy  than  I  do,  how  iiisane  my  love  for 
.  you  is." 

"  Hâve  I  said  it  \ias  ins?ine  ?" 

"  France  1  "  he  cried. 

She  did  not  speak. 

"  France,"  he  cried  again,  "  can  it  be  possible  that  you 
care  for  me  t  Speak  my  fate  in  one  word — shall  it  be  go,  ai 
stay?" 

She  tumed  toward  him,  the  dark  eyea  fuU  of  radiant  lig^t, 
and  answered  :  "^  ^ 

"SUyl" 


*i> ,. 


-,■•*• 


-V'  ' 


■1 


■^ 


1 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


asks. 


**  GORDON  CARYLL." 

IF,N  mûintes  hâve  passed.  Ail  that  it  is  necessary 
to  say  bas  been  said  ;  the  first  dclirium  is  over,  and 
rçason  hàs  resutned  her  sway. 

"  B-it  what  wiir  Lady  Dynely  say  ?  "  Locksley 
"  How  am  I  to  go  and  tell  her  that  the  impecunioiis 
artist  whôm  she  brought  down  hère,  to  paint  her  ward's  pic- 
ture,  has  had  the  presumption  to  fall  in  love  with  bis  sitter, 
and  déclare  that  presumptùous  passion?  And  what  will 
your  guardian  in  Rome  say-:;Mrs.  Caryll  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  that  it  matt^rs  very  greatly  what  they  say," 
France  laughs.  "  Mrs.  Caryll  I  should  like  to  please  çer- 
tainly,  but  Since  I  am  not  to  marry  Lord  Dynely,  I  do  not 
think  her  objections  will  be  very^iflScult  to  overcome.  For 
Lady  Dynely,  I  am  under  her  care  for  the  présent,  but  to 
control  my  actions  in  any  way  she  has  no  right  whatçver.  I 
shall  be  of  âge  in  two  years,  and  then  " — she  looks  up  into 
the  cager  face  above  her,  still  laughing— "  and  then,  so  you 
are  pleased,  it  won't  matter  very  greatly  what  ail  the  world 
together  says." 

^That  means  you  will  bewife.  France— am  I  to  bclievc 
it— that  one  day  I  may  claim  you  as  iny  own  ?  " 

"  If  you  care  to  hâve  me.  .  And,  meantime,  I  suppose 
you  will  gtve  iip  your  idea  of  rushing  out  of  the  world,  and 
remaiii  hère  like  a  reasonable  mortal,  and  paint  that  dupli- 
cate  picture  for  dear  old  grandmamma  Caryll." 

"I  will  do  anything  you  say— I  will  paint  a  thousand 
duphcates— I  will  stay  hère  and  face  an  army  of  guardians 
Hf  necessary,  and  be  branded  as  a  fortune-htintpr,  «n  adygifc 


Tûrer. 
me  to  be." 


For  a  fortune-huntèr;  they  will  call  me,  and  believe 


M.   -'  , 


H.^- 


■•PI 


-^-..^A 


** GORDON  CHRYtL» 


23li 


"Not|n  my  présence,  at  least,"  France  answers;  "no 
one,  not  qihose  I  hold  nearest  and  dearest,  shall  speak  ill  of 
you  and  remain  my  friend.  And  siieaking  of  fortune,  I  hope 
you  hâve  no  objection  to  my  rest(mng  to  Gordon  Câryll, 
should  he  at  any  time  retum,  ail  the  inheritance  his  mothei 
bequeathes  me.  I  hold  it  in  trust  ;  and  let  him  appear  Xfy^ 
morrow,  or  thîrty  years  from  now,  I  will  still  retum  it." 

Locksley«Iaughed. 

"I  objectl  Not  likely!  Still— I  hope-  he  will  not 
come  !" 

"Mr.  Locksley!"  \ 

"I  décline  to  answer  to  tbat  naine  any  longer  to  you. 
I  hav^  another,  though  the  idea  does  not  seem  to  hâve 
occurred  to  you." 

"  What  is  it  ?  I  bave  seen  G.  Locksley  at  the  boUom  of 
your  pictures.  Whatisit?  George?  Godfrey?  GeoflFry? 
What? 

"  None  of  thèse — my  name  is " 

The  dark,  luminous  eyes  were  lifted  to  his  face. 

"Is— well?" 

"  My  name  is  Gordon."  . 

"  Gordon  !  "a  startled  expression  càùne  over  her  face  for  a 
moment — her  eagerly  wistful  eyes  looked  at  him.  !But  he 
met  her  gaze  with  bis  euriously  imperturbable  smile. 

"  It  is  a  favorite  cognomen  of  yours,  I  know.    There  are 
other  Gordons  in  the  world  beside  Gordon  <^ryll,  who  as  I 
.  aaid  before,  I  hope  will  never  return." 

"Andwhy?" 

"  Because  I  am  mortally  jealous  of  him.  He  bas  alway» 
been  your  hero,  by  your  own  showing — is  so  still — and  I 
feel  in  the  depths  of  my  prophétie  soûl  tbat  he  is  destined  to 
be  m^  rival.  If  ît  were  not  for  that^  I  might  be  tempted  to — " 
a  sraile  and  a  provoking  pause. 

**  Well,  to  what  ?  "  she  cries  with  tbat  pretty  imperiousnes» 
of  mannçr  tbat  was  one  of  her  chief  charms. 

"  Tofind  hiua  for  you.    ït  ought  not  to  be  an  ïmpqgsible 
task.    i- thiffk  1  cçirld  accomplishi^if  i"were"quite^ 
your  hero  of  the  past  wo»ld  sot  beônne  yoiùr  idol  of  the 
future.    To  bring  him  hère  with  a  halo  of  romance  envelop» 


"7^ 


\^     ' 


0iigàSeiiie»»mm>'^ 


;    ;V  lij  .^  -r.-^^v^^TCV  <^*lv^< 


'    P 


1^ 


¥ 


f7=r 


232 


**^GOJlDOAr  CARYLLr 


ing  him  would  be  a  dangerous  éxperiment.  I  had  niade  up  n« 
mmd  to  go  and  surrender  you  to  Lord  Dynely  ;  to  surrendet 
you  now  to  Mr.  Gordon  Caryll-no,  I  am  only  human-I 
could  not  do  that.  Lord  Dynely  would  be  a  dangerous  rival 
tor  any  man  hvmg,  with  the  youtb  and  the  beauty  of  a  Greek 
god  ;  but  Gordon  Caiyll  must  be  old  and  as  battered  as  ray. 
self.     To  be  ousted  by  him " 

He  paused;   she  had  clasped  her  hands,  her  lips  were 
apart,  her  eyes  were  dilated.  -.  f         c 

"Mr.  Locksley— "  *1  > 

•       "Gordon—Gordon—I  tcJd  you  my  name.'»^::^ 
him  p^?        '  ^'^«'ï-^oyou  think— ^you  think  you  can  find 

"Caryll?  Why,  yes.  I  can  try  at  least.  Idaresayheis 
as  anxious  to  return  as  you  are  to  hâve  him  back.  OnlV  tell 
nie,  France,  that-when  he  is  found  he  wiU  never  corne  be- 
tween  you  and  me  ?" 

She  looks  at  him,  an  indignant  flash  in  her  eyes— an  indig- 
nant flush  on  her  cheeks.  ^ 

.K  *!^^i^t^'i  Gordon  Caryll  nor  any  man  on  earth  can  do 
Jhat.  I  bjelong  to  you.  Only  I  want  him  back  for  his  own 
sake,  for  his  mother^s,  for  mine.  He  has  suffered  enough. 
,  been  m  exile  long  enough,  for  what  at  no  time  was  his  fault 
but  his  misfortune.  Fetch  him  back,  if  you  can-it  is  ali 
that  is  needed  to  complète  my  perfect  happiness  now." 

Ihe  name  of  her  lover  does  not  corne  fluently  from  her 
Z^t  ,"^7^°"-\/'ï^"oddcoincidence,she  thinks, 
that  he  should  resemble  the  exiled  heir  of  Caryllynne,  and 
bear  the  same  name.  Some  dim,  vague  suspi^in  is  begin- 
nmg  to  creep  over  her.  some  shadow  of  suspicion  rather  :  for 
w  yet,  the  truth  is  too  wildly  unreal  and  improbable  to  bê 

h^nl    °-ii  .^i*"  ^""Vl  "ÎP'^  °^  ^"*°°  Caryll,  she  thinks, 
than  he  w.U  tell,  and  the  dark  eyes  look  up  at  him  wistfully 
s«archmgly     Son.eth.ng  in  Ix>cksley'8  faci  makes  her  think 
fZ  r  ^?J  <l«tasteful  to  him.    He  stands  there  understand-    ' 
.^f,     îri  T"^'*'^i.*°*^ï'"''  *  half-repressed  smile  on  his^ 

longer  thfthaMghty,h.ghbitoheiwww^^^^u^ 


^^. 


'J*i 


4^ 


**GORDOlf  CARYLL.» 


233 


scure»  penniless  artist,  and  soldier  of  fortune.    It  is  his  to 
rule,  Iters  to  obey. 

«  What  a  wretched  expression  of  countenance.  Miss  For* 
'j^fé*"»'!  '^^  said  laughing.  "Areyou  regretting  y^ur  hasty 
a^jfllssion  of  five  minute»  ago  ?  Are  you  sorry  already  you 
t^e  me  stay  ?     If  so— " 

Her  clasped  hands  tighten  on  his  arm.  Soiry  she  badé 
hini  stay  I     Her  radiant  eyes  answer  that.  ' 

"  Then  it  is  solely  on  Gordon  Caryll's  acçount.      Be  at 
peace,  my  France,  ask  no  questions  ;  we  will  talk  of  our- 
selves,  not  of  him.     Only  be  sure  of  this— he  shall  return  . 
to  his  home,  to  his  mother,  and  to  you."    • 
She  lays.  her  happy  f^ce  against  his  shoulder  in  éloquent 
^  silence.     So  they  stand— looking  out  ç^  the  leaden  summer 
Ijiaftemoon,  listening  to  the  soft,  dark  rush  of  the  sûramer  r?in. 
«HowwiUwe  getback  to  Dynely  Abbey  if  this  lasts?" 
France  says  at  last 

"It  is  not  going  to  last,"  Mr.  Locksley  answers  ;  "it  is 
hghting  already  in  the  west  yonder.  In  two  hours  froni 
now,  ma  belle,  you  will  drive  me  back  to  the  village  through 
a  perfect  blaze.  of  sunset  glory.  Meantime  we  hâve  the 
house  to  see,  luncheon  to  eat,  and,  by  the  same  token,  I 
wish  your  old  lady  would  hurry.     It  may  seem  unromantic, 

'    Miss  Forrester,  but " 

"  You  hâve  had  lio  dinner  and  are  famished,"  laughs 
France.  "  Hère  cornes  Mrs.  Mathews  now,  to  announce 
that  our  banquet  is  ready." 

Mrs.  Mathews  enters,  unutterably  respectable  to  look  at, 
in  her  stiflf,  black  silk,  and  widow's  cap.  Yes,  luncheon  is 
ready,  and  as  Mrs.  Ijilathews  makes  the  announcement,  she 
gazes  with  strange  intensity  into  the  face  of  the  tall,  bearded 
«ranger.  She  remembers  her  young  master  as  though  she 
hj^d  seen  him  but  yesterday,  and  how  like  this  gentleman  is 
to  hini  none  but  Mrs.  Mathews  can  realize.  His  eyes,  his 
expression,  the  very  trick  of  manner  with  which  he  shakes 
back  his  thick  brown  hair.  Her  master  retumed  1  It  can- 
not  be,  eUe  surely  Miss  France  must  know  it  ;  and  yet— 
*nd.  yêr— the  facrage-keeper*s  eyes  foUowed  hiin  as  oné"" 
fiucinated. 


1.'  1 


Z- 


h. 


-'<;*»■ 


i  r. 


ïfe' 


5-^.-< 


ft-- 


Il    ' 


234 


"  GORDON  CAR  YLL.** 


She  wails  upon  theni.  It  is  a  very  merry  lit  tle  repast 
In  spite  of  love's  delirium  they  both  enjoy  tbe  créature  corn- 
forts  provided.  Mr.  Locksley  is  really  hungry— does  the 
grande  passion  ever  impair  a  healthy  man's  appetit'e  ?  It 
does  France  good  to  seç  him  eat.  And  then,  luncheon 
over,  they  saunter  away  to  look  at  the  rooms. 

l.ocksley's  prédiction  concerning  the  weather  is  already 
beginning  to  be  fulfilled.  The  afternoôn  has  lighted  up 
once  more — the  siin,  behind  its  veil  of  clouds  still,  will  be 
oqt  in  full  splendor  presently  ;  the  rain  falls,  but  gently. 
The  swift  Aiigust  stonn  is  speht 

"  We  shall  hâve  a  delicious  drive  home,"  France  says,^  as 
they  wander  through  long  suites  of  rooms,  drawing-rooms, 
library,  and  picture-gallery.  "  What  an  eventful  day  this 
has  been.  How  littie  I  thought,  when  I  started  forth  'fetter- 
less  and  free'  this  momteg,  that  I  should  wear  captive  chains 
before  night  ;  I  ara  jglad  Lady  Dynely  is  awa^ — she  would 
be  certain  to  read  ftllmy  wrongdoing  in  ray  guilty  face  upon 
my  return,  and  to  sit  down  and  tell  her  in  cold  blood  so 
soon,  I  GovM  not.     It  would  seem  a  sort  of.  desecration." 

You  are  sure  you  will  never  repent  ?  "  Locksley  asks,  un- 
easily.  "  You  hâve  made  but  a  misérable  bargain,  France. 
With  your  youth  and  beauty,  your  birlh  and  fortune,  the 
offers  you  refused  in  the  season,  to.end  at  laât  with  a  free 
lance,  an  obscure  artist,  whose  youth  is  passcd,  who  can  give 
you  nothing  but  an  unknown  name,  and  a  heart  that  you 
took  captive  at  sight,  in  return.  My  darling,  th«  world  will 
tell  you,  and  tell  you  truly,  ycwi  hâve  made  but  a  sorry 
bargain." 

•The  world  will  never  tell  it  to  me  twice.    Why  do  we^ 
talk  of  it  ?    1  love  you  ;  with  you  I  am  happy — without  you 
I  am  misérable— ail  is  said  in  that" 

There  is  silence  for  a  time.  They  look  at  the  pictured 
faces  of  dead-and-gone  Caiylls,  and  da  abt  secthem.  At 
last— 

"And  $0  yott  take  me  blindfolded ? "  Locksley  says. 
'«  Yoii  ask  nothing  of  the  forty  yeara  that  lie  behind  me? 


m 


You  give  ipe  yourself,  wîthout  oné  qoèiSon  of  whaï  roy  We 
has  been  ?    How  are  you  to  tell  I  am  worthy  of  the  gift  ?  " 


# 


,ms,mtmm 


WfW^S^^^^^f"-^^^ 


f'zw*- 


**  GORDON  CARYLL." 


2^1 


\ 


She  looks  at  hîm  and  her  ha^ipy  face  pales  suddenly.  Ali 
at  once  there  returns  to  her  the  memory  oî  Eric's  words, 
the  tiiemory  of  that  hinted  at,  hidden  away,  ••  obnoxious 
wife."  •  .• 

"  I  hâve  a  story  to  teH  yoii,"  he  says  in  answer  to  thaï 
startled  look  ;  "you  shall  hear  it  before  we  quit  this  hou^o 
— you  shall  know  ail  my  life  as  I  know  it  myself.  Hôw 
many  more  rooms  ha\re  we  to  ste?    Whose  is  this?" 

*' It  is^it  was— GordQp  CaryU's." 

They  pause  on  the  threshold.  The  sun  has  conie  from 
behind  the  clouds  and  fills  the  rooni  with  its  slanting,  amber 
glory.  ,  The  rain  has  entirely  ceaSed — a  rainbow  spans  the 
arch  of  blue  sky  they  can  see  froi^  the  tall  window.  / 

"  Nothing  has  been  altered,"  FVance  says  softly  ;  "every- 
thing  is  as  he  left  it.  Books,  pictures,  pipes,  whips,  guns, 
— ail!" 

They  enter.  What  a  strange  expression  Locksle/s  face 
wears,  the  girl  thinks,  as  he  looks  around.  She  does  not 
understand,  and  yet  those  vague,  ihapeless  suspicions  are 
floating  in  her  mind.  They  touch  nothing — they  stand  ta- 
gether  and  look,"  and  the  yellow  sunshine  gilds  ail.  The 
books  in  their  cases,  the  handsomely  framed  proof  engrav- 
ings  of  dogs  and  horses,  the  pijîes  bf  ail  nations,  the  side- 
arms  of  ail  countries — dirks,  cimetars,  swords,  bowie  knives,, 
the  gaudy  robe  de  chambre,  now  faded  and  dini,  thrown  over 
a  chair  back — ail  as  Gordon  Caryil  had  left  them. 

They  quit  this  room  presently  and  enter  the  next.  It 
was  Mrs.  Caryil' s^  sitting-room,  in  those  long  gone  days,  the 
rooni  in  which,  as  the  twilight  of  another  August  day  fell, 
she  stood  and  banished  her  only  son  from  her  side  forever. 

Th(f  bright  yelloiv  sunshine  floods  ail  things  hère  too  ; 
the  chair  in  which  she  used  to  sit,  the  work-table  and 
work-box  upon  it,  her  piano  in  the  corner,  the  velvet 
draperied  oratory  beyond  ;  and  over  the  chimney,  one 
picture  with  its  face  tùrfied  to  the  wall.  "It  is  a  por- 
trait of  Gordon  paryll,"  France  says,  almost  in  a  whisper, 
^fer^methingnr  her  cotnpanion's^ace  startles  h»  strangdyy^^ 
"she  placed  it  so  on  that  last  cruel  eveningjvhen  she  drove 
hira  from  her.    |^  it  has  hung  since." 


i-    ai*  j 


„ ■■}■      A.        ;ï,   >: 


fci%/L'  -*v 


s. 


.  t 


\ *'>'"'  s»'s'-r-. 


236 


.^     **  GORDON  CARYLL." 


"Turn  it,"  LWksley  commands  briefly^  and  she  obeys. 
She  stands  upon  a  chair  and  turns  the  pictured  face  to  the 
light.  It  is  cover<^d  with  dust.  Spiders  hâve  woven  their 
webs  across  it.  Shfe  fanées  around  for  a  cloth,  finds  one, 
wipes-  dust  andcobw^bs  together  oÉF,  and  the  boyish  face  oJ 
the  last  Squire  of  Caiyllynne  srailes  back  upon  her  in  the 
sunshine.  "     \ 

"  Was  he  not  handsoiV  ?  "  she  asks,  regretfuUy.  "  Poor 
Gordon  !  brave  and  genekpus  and  beloved  of  ail— to  think 
he  should  pay  for  one  mis1;ake  by  life-long  exile  and  lo'neli- 
ness."  \ 

She  looks  down  at  her  Idyer.  She  pa;ises  suddenly  ;  a 
wild  expression  cornes  over  hfer  face.  She  springs  froip  her 
perch  and  glances  from  the  piûtured  face  of  the  boy  to  the 
living  face  of  the  man  gazing  gr^vely  up. 

She  sees  at  last— neither  years,\nor  bronze,  nor  beârd  can 
deceive  her  longer.  She  gives  a  littte  cry,  and  stands  breath- 
less,  her  hands  claspéd,  her  color  coping  and  going. 

He  sees  he  is"  known,  and  turnsX  to  her  with  the  very 
smile  the  pictured  face  wears-  \ 


"My  France,"  he 
Gordon  Caiyll" 


says,  "you  knoV  at  last.that  I  am 


Br 


ft'  f- 


I     • 


.^'i";.   *"''î  ^'Z"*'**^ 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


THROUGH    THE    SUNSET. 


î^   i 


^M 


O!  The  trnth  is  out  at  last — the  désire  of  her  life 
is  gained.  Gordon  Caryll  stands  there  before  her 
— ^her  lover  J  ^  ' .  , 

She  hardly  knows  whetber  she  is  glad  or  so.'ry, 
she  hardly  knows  even  whether  s6e  is  surprised.  She  hah 
turned  quite  white,  and  stands  looking  at  hiin  in  a  silence 
she  is  unable  to  break.  *  ^^  < 

Gordon  Caryll  laughs — the  most  geniallytitRiused  laugh 
she  has  heard  yet. 

"  If  I  had  said,  '  F  am  his  Satanic  Majesty,  horns,  hoofs 
and  ail,'  you  could  hardjy  look  more  petrified,  more  wildly 
inçredulous.  My  dear  child,  do  coirfe  out  of  that  trance 
of  horror  and  say  something." 

He  takes  both  her  hands,  and  looks  smilingly  down  into 
her  pale,  startled  face. 

"  Look  at  me,  France — ^look  at  that  picture.  Don'/  you 
see  the  resemblance  ?  Surely  "you  don't  doubt  what  I  hâve 
said?"         -  -      •   ^^        ■ 

"  Doubt  you  !  Oh,  Gordon  !  wA/^f  a  surprise  this  is.  And 
yet — I  don't  know— I  dôn't  really  know — 'As  in  a  glass, 
darkly,'  I  believe  I  niust  hâve  seen  itfrom  the  first." 

"  And  you  are  sorry  or  glad — which  ?  You  told  me  that 
the  désire  of  your  heart  was  Gordon  Ca^yll's  return;  Gordon 
Caryll  stands  before  you — your.heart|s  désire  is  gained,  and 
you  look  at  me  with  the  blankest  facel  ever  saw  youwear* 
Are  you  sorry,  then,  after  ail  ?" 

"  Sorry  1     A"h,  you  know  better  than  that.     Why,"  with  a 

*gl^f  ^**WTomance  of  my  Hfe  was  thatGordon  Caryll  would 
retum,  and  that  I  should  be  the  one  to  console  hiui  for  the 


^M'-M 


■'     > 


5- 


\ 


'i- 


^^ 


238 


THROUGH  THE  SUITSBT, 


buter  past— that  I  should  one  day  be  his  wife/  And  to  think 

— that  my  dream  should  come  true»    Yet  still " 

«  Well— yet  still." 

"Yet  still— more  or  less  it  is  a  disappointment.  I  had 
hoped  to  be  the  good  genius  of  your  life  in  ail  things— that 
iny  fortune  would  be  your  stepping  stone  to  famé.  NoW  I  can 
do  nothmg;  I  am  not  going  to  marry  a  stniggling  artist  and 
help  him  wm  lus  laurel  crown.  The  heir  of  Caryllynne  need 
owe  nothmg  to  his  wife.  My  romance  of  love  in  a  cotta-^e, 
while  you  won  a  nameamong  the  immortals,  is  at  an  end?"' 
"  Not  so.  After  ail  it  wjll  be  due  to  you  the  same— J 
take  Caryllynne  from  you,  And  I  would  never  hâve  taken 
off  ^y.  mask,  and  shown  myself  to  the  world  as  I  am.  but 
for  you."  , 

•"  Not  even  for  your  mother's  ^^ke  ?" 
"N6t  even  for  my  mother's  sake.     How,  but  for  you 
would  I  ever  hâve  known  that  my  molher  desired  it,  that  I 
was  forgiven,  that  she  longed  to  take  me  back  ?     It  makes 
me  happier  than  I  can  say  now  that  I  know  it  ;  but  of  my- 
self  I  never  >vo«)d  hâve  discovered  it.»    VVhat  was  donc,  was 
done;  I  meant  to  hâve  walked  on  the  way  I  had  chosen 
to  the  end.     :^ut  you  appeared,  and  lo  !  ail  things  chanaed.' 
"It  IS  hke  a  fairy  taie,"  she  said ;  "I  cannot  realize  it. 
Oh  !  what  wiU  Lady  Dynely,  what  will  Eric,  what  will  youi"^ 
mother,  what  will  ail  the  world  say?"  ' 

"I  don't  think  it  will  surprise  Lady  Dynely  very  greaily  ' 
Caryll  answered  coolly.  "  Shç  recognized  me  the  first  day 
— -I  saw  it  in  her  face— only  she  took  pains  to  convince  her- 
self  it  was  an  impossibility.  I  had  been  gone  so  long  it  was 
impossible  I  could  ever  come  back  ;  that  was  how  she  rea- 
soned.  For  Eric,  well  it  would  be  dead  against  every  rule  of 
his  creed  to  be  surprised  at  anything.  He  will  open  those 
sleepy  blue  eyes  of  his  for  a  second  or  two,  and  lift  his  blond-î 
eyebrows  to  the  roots  of  his  hair." 

"  Very  likely,"  says  France  -^  "  he  has  not  far  to  lift  them." 
"  I  wonder  you  did  not  marry  him,  France.  He's'a  hand- 
«ome  fellow,  and  a  gallant.  As  linlike  a  battered  old  soldier 
^-  I-a»  «a---ft»^he  Apollo  is  nnlikrïfiê  Fârnesè  HëS 


cules." 


W^^H^^^^AV 


.  'r 


\      'ç^g^?'W■'5V' • 


TttROVGH  THE  ^VNSET. 


7  •  -^ 


239 


»k«  r^^îu  «^  ''"■^  ™^"y  P^^'P^^'  of  undoubted  taste  too, 
whopreferthe  Hercules  as  thetruetypç  of  manliness  to  thé 
Apollo  Eric  is  very  handsome— abstirdly  handsome  for  a 
man ;  the wife  ofa demi-god must  hâve rather a trying time  of 
it.  I  dbn  t  care,  besides,  to  share  a  heart  that  some  scores  of 
women,  dark  and\ight.  hâve  shared  b^ore  me.  'AU  or 
néne,  is  the  mottoW  the  Forresters.  Are  you  sure,  sir.  r 
mayclaim  ail  m  the  présent  case?" 

"  Ail— every  infinitésimal  atom.     I  offer  you  a  heart  that' 

thL  »  H  ^""f  '^''^'l*^^"  ye*s  has  had  no  lodger.  Before 
that,  he  drew  a  deep  breath  and  looked  al  her.  "  You 
know  that  story."  ««*  "ci.         xou 

!!  aÏ"'  }a  ''t"°'*  "-Lady  Dynely  told  me.     She  is  dead  ?  " 
dead!^"*  ^""^^      ""^  '''°''^"  ^°  ^°"  ^'^'^^    ^^?'  «h^  '» 

•  He  dropped  her  hands  suddenly  and  walked  over  to  the 
wimlow.     Beyond  the  green  hiU  tops  the  sun  was  dropping 

nt«  the  sea— the  whole  western  sky  was  aflush.     The  spark^ 
ling  drops,  ghttenng  like  diamonds  on  roses  and  verbenas 
were  alL  that  remained  of  the  past  storm 

She  stood  where  he  had  left  her,  looking  after  him  wistfully, 
wifh  soraethmg  that  was  almost  a  contraction  of  the  heart.     . 
««r^;^'"  Tv"  ^f  ''^^^  P^'"^^'"  «'^^  thought,  "smce  they 
hke  this?"  ^^'^  niemory  of  that  time  still  affect  him 

She  remembered  the  story  LadTfiJildThad  told  her-of 
how  passionately  he  had  lov.vl  that  most  worthless  wife. 
Could  any  man  love  hke  that  twice  in  alifetime.  The  wine 
left  for  her  ^^^"^  *°  ^^^'  ^^^  actress- the  lees  were 

"  France  1" 

thv^n  J.!f  ^/-^'f  ^^^^  '".  *u°  »nstant-ashamed  of  that  unwor. 
trty  spasm  of  jealousy  of  the  dead. 

tK-'ic'"  '  ï  ^t^\  ^^^  ^^y  ^'  erablematic  of  my  life  ?    HaVe 
n  K?M*"    ^  darkness  passed  forever,  and  wiU  the  end  be 

==SSrlS?^-  *  ^^P^^^^^'^^l»^^  but  the  dkrk^fst^ 
accord  v<«i  know.    Th#»  cf^r»  «r  ♦k- 1  '    t •   .       . 


JK»i^<mkpow     The  story  of  thel^^an  I  married  and 
wno  was  iny  rum.'* 


'    ^y 


i'>»is#**frt».i.^*i».''t   r 


,jH*f  r^"-"-— 


r'y»i)j'i»>T.iiM 


r^7'„';  'if 


240 


THROVGH  THE  SUNSET. 


l  p- 


1  i. 


She  glanced  ur  with  that  new-born  shyness  of  hers  into  his 
•    overcast  face  in  silence.  ' 

"  Let  me  tell  yoii  ail  to-day,  and  make  an  end  of  it,"  he 
said.     "  It  is  something  I  hâte  to  speak  of— hâte  with  ail  my 
soûl  to  think  cf.     You  know  the  story — Lady  Dynely  has 
/  told  you,  you  say.     You  know  then  how  I  was  divorced, 

how  our  united  names  rihig  the  changes  through  England 
and  Canada;  how  the  name  of  Caryll,  never  dishon- 
ored  before,  was  dragged  through  the  mire  of  a  divorce 
court.  O^ou  know  how  I  came  to  England  and  saw  my 
mother  and  Lucia.  Saw  Lady  Dynely,  told  her  ail,  and 
bade  her  goî)d-by  upon  th^t  other  August  night  nineteen 
years  ago— the  very  night  her  husband  died.  AU  that  you 
know?" 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  she  said.  "  Go  on." 
"I  had  left  my  old  régiment  and  exchanged  into  one 
ordered  to  India,  and  in  India  the  next  twèlve  years  were 
spent.  It  was  hot  and  exciting  work  at  first  ;  lutle  time  to 
think,  little  time  to  regret.  The  horrible  mutiny,  of  which 
you  hâve  heard,  with  whose  .bloody  and  sickening  détails  ail 
England  was  ringing  then,  when  women  and  chiWren  were 
butchered  in  cold  blood,  was  at  its  height.  Who  could  stop 
and  think  of  private  woes  when  the  whole  British  heart  was 
wrung  with  agony.  It  was  the  best  discipline  that  could 
possibly  hâve  befallen  me— for  my  life  I  was  reckless,  the 
sooner  a  Sepoy  buUet  ended  a  dishonored  existence  ftie  bet-^». 
ter.  But  the  flying  Sepoy  Jpullet  laid  low  better  mcn  and^ 
passed  me.  I  carried  a  sort  of  charmed  life — I  passed 
through  skirmish  after  skirmish,  hot  work  too  with  the  fierce 
black  devils,  and  never  received  a  scratch.  At  last  our 
slaughtered  countrynien  were  avenged  and  the  mutiny  was 
over. 

"Of  the  life  that  followed  in  India  I  hâve  little  to  say. 

It  was  the  usuaV  duU  routine  of  drill  and  parade  ;  of  .Calcutta 

1       and  Bombay — of»  hill  parties,  of  up-country  excursions,  of 

1       jackal  shoot/ ng,  and  pig  sticking.    Of  a  sudden  I  grew  tired  of 

itall.     Iftdia  becanie  insupportable,  a  sort  of  homesickness 

T      took  possession  of  me.     I  must  see  England.     I  must  see  my. 

njQtheronœ  more.    1  Bold  our  and  camé  5ome,  ^^  — ~ 


«^m^ 


...v'f^,^ 


s  ;   ^^  /^,,«f  ^i^TM^hft  V'^V^-'-f;«iP^^p 


'  ^"'-t^  M 


THROVCH  TIIESVNSET. 


^41 

hère,  and  heard  ail  about  mv  oeonl^'     lu        " ,      . 
Caryriyrine  forever,  and  Sen  ?.n  t       k^  T^^^^'  ''^^  ^«''«ed 
-      had  adopted  Gène  al  Forrester's  Zf'lt  ^'  f"'"^      ^he 
and  he.ress.  Miss  Forres te7be  n^  .  h   ^  ?''i^'  ^^'  ^^"ghter 
I^ady  Dynelywas  a  widow-she  ï^  ^' ^  ^f  •^'^"  *^"^ 
had  adopted  an  orphan  lad    'ïn         ""^^  abroad-she  too 
heir  at  Eton.     That  was  Xt  T  T'  "°J  f^  ^'^"^  ««"  ^^^ 
-go^M>s.a„dth^ 

^"^'S  tiniel  went  to  Amerira      Tk       r 
bUng  aimlessiy  ab^ut  the  counS'  /•'^^''^  ^  rf  mained.  ram- 
do  with  my  futurete      luddënl^  n^'"^  *^  ^""'^^  ^^at  to 
.  ta«n  for  certain  what  had  becôie  otT^  '°  """  *°  ^^^^^- 
been  my  wife.     Was  she  living  oTdead?  T  T'^^^u^'^^  ^^^ 
her  at  ail  when  I  could  avn  H  ,?  k  »   ^    ^  "^^^''  tboiight  of 

obtruded.     No.v  was   he  Jme  to  knn  '^f  ^''^"S'^^  '^^^  «^^^ 
"I  went  to  Canada    On  V      """^  ^°'  ^^"^in- 

seen  her  last.  The  lond^hn  '  '°  ^  P'"^^  ^'^«re  I  had 
had  chosen  as  h^r  Lmë  iCd  tL^n'i  ^  «^'ghts,  which  she 
uninhabited.  I  returS  to  th.  fn  "?  ^'■^^'  ^^«°'^te  «"d 
who  had  been  its  ownt  thi  teen  v!"'  ^""'^^  "P  ^'^«  ^lan 
owner  still.  t^rteen  years  before,  who  was  its 

who  hS  beeS'l^:"ten:„dr tf  °'  ^-  '^'^-^-  ^ordon^ 

hurry.  Perhaps-would  I  mfn.l  f  u'  ^'^^^  ^°'"g^t  «  i«  a 
was  Mr.  Gordon-the  eentlem.»  k  '*'"l^  ^""  ?-perhaps  I 
speaking  to  once  before ?'™^"  "'^'"'^^^  ^^^  ^«  ^onor  of 

tell  me  where  she  ?s  now  ??      °"  '  "^''"^^^  ^^'^'     Can  yoï 


-'^d^î?^'r^^^îs^ 


a 


»y  o«e  we.h.,e«^r.3;.-^S™ 


.-^'  I. 


.v-.. 


V 

«F' 


,^;j,  f  ■ 


H 


THROÙÇH  THE  SUNSET. 


must  ever  corne  upon  us  with  something  of  a  shock. 
"JDead  !  '  then  I  was  free  I  I  drew  a  long  breath — a  breath 
of  great  relief.  *  Will  you  tell  me  how  she  died  ?  '  I  asked 
after  a  moment 

"  '  It  was  a  very  shocking  thing — oh  ;  a  very  shocking 
thing,  indeed.     She  was  killed.' 

•"Killed; 

*"  I  don' t  wonder  you  look  startled.  Yes,  poor  soûl — 
killed  in  a  railway  accident  Wait  a  moment^I  hâve  the 
paper  somewhere — I  generally  eurent  such  things  and  keep 
them.' 

"He  ransacked  in  his  desk*— produced  a  Montréal  4)aper 
of  four  years  before,  and  pointed  out  a  paragraph.  It  gave 
a  detailed  account  of  a  very  terrible  collision  on  the  Grand 
Trunk  Railway,  of  the  loss  of  life,  the  list  of  the  wounded 
and  killed.  Aniong  the  killed  I  read  the  name  of  Mrs.  Gor- 
don. 

"  '  Is  that  ail  your  proof  ?  '  I  said  to  hira.  '  That  is  ;ioth- 
ing.    Gordon  is  a  common  name.'  '  \ 

"  *  Ah,  but  look  hère.' 

"  Hè  turned  over  the  paper  and  pointed  to  another  place. 
*The  Mrs.  Gordon  whose  name  is  recorded  in  another 
column  as  among  the  number  killed,  was  a  lady  with  a  his- 
tory  of  more  than  ordinary  interest  She  was  of  a  beàuty 
most  remarkable,  by  profession  an  actress  of  more  than 
ordinary  talent  Her  history  must  still  be  familiar  to  our 
readers,  as  the  heroine  of  the  celebrated  divorce  case  of 
nine  years  ago.  A  young  English  officer  of  femily  anJ 
wealth,  named  Gordon  eiaryll,'  etc.,  etc.  In  short,  the 
whole  misérable  stoiy  was  given  of  the  actress,  her  accom- 
plice,  and  her  dupe.  '  Since  that  time,'  the  record  went  on 
to  say,  '  she  had  retumed  to  the  stage  and  was  rising  rapidly 
to  famé  and  fortune  when  this  most  mçlancholy  dicter  ended 
her  brilliant  carèer.* _.,     ,^^  _SL_  \ 

"  I  sàt  with  the  papêr  before  me.  *Ànd  this  was  the  end 
— the  end  of  ail  that  beauty  that,  among  ail,  the  women  I 
had  met  since  Dr  beftfre,  I  hadnever  seetaequalled.  The 
-Koîcft  of  Mr,  Barteaua  arougcd  ta%, — 


«  «Every  year  fiou  the  time  she  left,  shtt  retumed  for  a 


».. 


^r^y'%->.^ 


THROVGH  THE  SVNSET. 

mo.her's  li,i„g  Lage .  '^"«  <'«'«  8"'  "ow,  and  her 

•WtoS?'"""""  "'^"'^ '™"'-     -Thechildri^id. 
.ne"o"?.ht.''  ""  '^'  ^'^'"'='  °°"  -<"-.  ""d  scn.U,u«d  , 
CaXfT„r^"ta;,?°"'°";,^"'^''    Mr.  Gordon 

«.{wiodwo.^'.irTgtfri^rwoSr.tiâï- 

for  its  support     Oncravear  .      T'  ''"^^  P*'^  «^erally 

-.o«u,$o"f"A„Ti„t';r„'"or^ef'."'*'«-  ■'  '-"' 

ried  a  inan  nanM-H   Mor^  Three  years  ago  she  mar- 

Western  ISueTshetnntff'  "?•'*  ?^'  ''"'»  ^'^  ^^  the 
She  could  ^t  hâve  Un  ^î^°?'''  ^^^^^^^  with  her. 

her  own.    W.àZ^^tT:'^''  attached  to  it  had  it  been 


AJ 


i 


m 


u 


H ,  1^7"  r  "^"  »t""«»-Qer  aoâress  P*^ --  ^ 


IM  -  » 


J  _      *^| 


'.r^ 


h  -  ■ 


\ 


k 


l 


,<?f:! 


'.'^ 


'•'* 


244 


'^^^^^^^4y^P 


THROUGH  THE  SUNSET. 


:'m,- 


^ertîse  in  New  York  and  Western  papers,  and  see  what 

''^^I  folîowid  his  advice-I  did  advertise  agaîn  and  again 
but  with  no  resuit.     I  wanted  intensely  to  find  that  child.     1 
ïlairi  ed  West,  I  inquired  everywhere-in  vain.     Then  the 
dvU  war  broke  ou?  and  I  joined  the  army     Two  more 

"elTassed,  and  then  in  one  -^ '^::;^^::'i^^:^^l^t 
awound  that  was  so  nearly  niortal  as  to  incapacitate  me 
?.r^  Whèr  fiehting.     The  moment  I  could  quit  hospital, 
iTtu^fd  o  Co'pe-went  at  once  to  Rome  and  took  to 
SS;  as  the.  one  last  ambition  and  love  of  my  hfe.     In 
RonL  I  saw  you,  saw  my  mother  many  times.  but  I  held 
1     )•     T  nnW  knêw  I  had  àriven  her  from  England,  that 
Clishon  Ang  To  her  iL  a  garment.     I  had  no  thought 
S  if  I  came  before  her  I  should  be  spujned  once  moje 
•  Tha  'I  dfd  not  choose  to  bear.    Then  m^  restless  famiha 
again  took  possession  of  me-I  came  baçk  to  England.     1 
^Sed  thatVture.  sent  it  to  the  A^en^y.  and  there,  one 
sunnv  May  aftemoon,  met  my  fate  aiÇjfyou.  .  „  ,,„j 

"And  rti^t  picture/' France  ^|^7%akmg  as  hepaused 

andfooked  fondly  down  upon  ^r.  •''Ho*'  '"^^  ^ight  Kell, 


was  your  parting  with  her,  wa^ 

u  Po^rsoul  1     Ah,  Gordo/l  she  was  to  be  pitied,  after  ail. 

She  Wed  you  and  lôst  yorff    I  can  think  of  no  bvtterer  fate 

^  '  Don' twaste  your  pity,  France     Of  love,  as  you  under- 
tand    it     she    knewinothing.    Good  heavens  1  what  an 

Sfly  Vand  cold:l^ooded  ?lot  it  was  1  and  what  an  easy 
dupf  shç'and  that  scoundrelly  old   major  found  m  me  1 
Don't  lét  «s  talk  about  it.    I  hâve  to  d  you-so  let  it  end 
r  never  want  to  speak  of  her  while  I  hve  agam.     Only-I 
should  hâve  Uked  tb  find  that  child. 

Thev  stond  silently,  sîde  by  side.    The  sun  has  set,  bu 
the  sky  is  aîl  rosy.  I^d  purple  and  golden,  with  the  glo^r  il 
ha«left     France  pulls  out  her  watch.  ,,  .     . 

"Seven      How^the  hours  hâve  flown.    I  should  hâve 

=TlslrSk^^  will  -be  quitedarkb^foreJreach^^e 
aSKx  noîf    Do  order  round  the  phaeton,  Gordon,  whUst  F" 


run  up  and  put  on  my  hat." 


THROUGH  THE  SUNSET. 

She  quits  his  jlde  and  runs  lightly  up  the  polished  oaken 
stairs,  singing  as  she  goes  for  very  gladness  of  heart.  She 
bas  always  loved  the  dear  old  house  ;  she  will  love  it  now 
more  than  ever,  since  in  it  she  has  been  so  supremely  happy 

She  adjusts  the  coquettish  little  bonnet  and  returns 

The  lord  of  the  manor,stately  and  tall,  averyman  ofmen. 
France  thinks,  awaits  her  and  assists  her  in.  He  gathers  un 
the  remias  one  who  has  the  right,  and  drives  her  at  a  spankin» 
pace  away  froni  Caryîlynne.  The  broad  yeflow  moon  is  UftinS 
her  luràinous  face  over  the  pearl  and  silver  sky,  the  rose  and 
amethyst  splendor  is  fading  tenderly  out  of  the  west.  She 
sits  beside  him  m  silence,  too  happy  to  talk  much.  Ail  her  life 
dreams  are  reahzed.  Her  artist  lover  is  hers— and  he  and 
Cxordon  Caryll  are  one.  She  has  been  wooed  and  won  as 
romantically  as  the  mo^t  romantic  girl  could  désire.  His 
voice  .breaks  the  spell. 

"  I  start  for  Rome  to-morrow." 

"To-morrowl"  She  looks  up  for  an  instant  "Gor- 
don  !  so  soon  ?  " 

"  She  has  waited  sixteen  years,"  he  answers.  "  Can  I  eo 
too  speedily  ?    Yet  if  you— " 

"  Oh,  no,  no  !  It  is  her%ht,  it  is  your  duty.  You  must 
go.     Only  you  wiU  not  stay  very  long  ?  " 

The  nightingales  are  singing  in  the  woods  of  Caryîlynne— 
they  alone  may  hear  his  answer.  '». 

He  drives  her  to  the  Abbey  gâtes— he  will  not  enter.  He 
will  walk  back  to  the  village,  he  tells  her  ;  he  needs  a  walk 
and  a  snioke,  to  calm  his  mind  after  ail  this. 

"  Shall  I  see  you  to-morrow  before  you  go  ?  "  she  asks. 

"I  think  not— no,  I  willleave  by  the  first  train— it  would 
be  too  early  Our  parting  will  be  to-night.  Tell  Lady 
LJynely  ;    and  let  wonder  be  over  before*!  retum."  • 

Then  undcr  the  black  shadows  of  the  chestnut  trecs  they 
casp  hands  and  say  farewell. 


-■* 


'-.î* 
**«*^** 


\^S 


,#^ 


rmfS^'-ifW'Ti'i'Èà 


;i^ 


'v- 


CHAPTER  XVIII.     J 

KILLING  THE   FAtTED  CALF. 

the  day  ;  and  the  mg^it  ^^'^^  j^.^  ,^^"f,^^^     S^nely  Abbey. 
ing  even  now,  is  to  be  a  grand  ^^  ^  mght  at  iJyne  y        ^/^ 

F^r  my  lady  gives  a  bail   thejirst  ^^^^ ™^^^^^^^^  «^^^^ 

the  côunty  are  invited.  ^^^^l^^^'^^^^^      blLk  sheep  of 
the  news  spread  î—^^sqot  Gordon  i.anm,i 

so  far  as  they  Hnow  it,  hke  a  chapte  froi^^^^^^^^ 

retumed  to  claim  h.s  o''"' JPf/if„Sn  the  ordinary  nine 

nieht  ?    It  has  been  somethnig  m^'^^/'î*"  J";  ".  ^ugs^  „ood 

ÏSl'wonder.thisstory^athas^^^^^^^ 

peiple  in  a  circuit  off^^ty  miles  Imve  tai^  ^.^^  ^é  ^^^ 

^''''''T^:TV\S(Im^I^->^  lad.  adashing 
scores  of  them— a  taii,  lair  nair    ,  transatlanUc  world, 

young  trooper  before  he  left  Pf  ;^"  "*^^      It  ail  cornes 
Uer?  he  met  ^e  siren  who  bas  l^en^^^^^^  ^„dal 

-  b?ick  to  them,  thetirst  dark  whisperin^ontia„em 

accepted  lover  of  his  mother»  s  heiress.    ne  lu»  1^ 


*-  ^;  .  .4,,,, .  j;,;,-    , .  i', fflV ■>; ..!  ■. 


jj^^jy^i*- '■]■«- 


} 


KILLING  THE  FATTED  CALF. 


247 


ail  thèse  wéeks,  visiting  that  mother  herself  ;  publicly  and 
joyfully  recognized  and  received  by  her,  and  to-night  he 
returns,  and  they  will  see  liim  face  to  face  at  Lady  Dynel/si 

At  Lady  Dynely's!  Why,  in  the  days  that  are  gone, 
when  he  was  but  the  merest  lad,  there  was  an  old  story  that 
he  was  his  cousuVs  lover.  She  has  not  Seen  him  yet  in  his 
new  character — it  will  be  curions  to  watch  them,  the  friends 
and  neighbors  maliciously  think.  And  France  Forrester  is 
to  marry  him.  Is  the  i^c^ess  wife  dead  then,  they  wonder?' 
They  had  thought  J|Bffi'<^«'e^er  and  Lord  Dynely  were  en- 
gaged,  and  now  iU^^^i^ut  ^hat  Lord  Dynely  is  to  marry 
a  clergyman's  dalSP^Tin  Lincolnshire — a  Miss  Higgins. 
Miss  Higgins  is  to  be  présent  also  to-night — she  and  her 
father  and  one  of  her  sisters  are  expected  this  evei>ing. 
Certainly  a  treat  is  in  store  for  them — not  one  who  is  invited 
will  miss  coming. 

As  the  last  light  of  day  fades  out  and  the  white  starry 
raoonlight  floods  earth  and  sky,  Lady  Dynely  comes  out  of 
her  dressing-room.  In  the  clustering  waxlights  she  looks 
pale,  pale  even  for  her  who  is  always  pale,  but  fair  andyouth- 
ful  and  élégant  in  her  trailing  violet  velvet,  her  pnceless 
point  lace,  and  the  Dynely  diamonds  flashing  on  slender 
throat  and  wrists  and  hands.  The  very  first  of  her  guests 
will  not  arrive  for  a  fuU  hour  yet,  but  she  has  dressed  early, 
and  stands  quite  alone,  glad  to  be  alone  for  a  little  before  it 
ail  begins.  Up  in  her  rooni  France  is  dressing — in  theirs 
Crystal  and  Crystal's  sister  are  dressing  likewise — Eric  is  in 
his — Terry  in  his.  For  Terry  has  broken  through  his  réso- 
lution of  not  puttingin  an  appearance  before  Christmas,  and 
run  down  for  a  night.  Lady  Dynely  has  ordained  it  so,  and 
Terfy  knows  no  will  of  his  own  where  she  wills  otherwise. 
The  first  sharp,  cruel  pain  of  loss  is  not  even  yet  obliterated 
— ail  his  life  long,  though  he  lived  to  be  a  hundred,  no  other 
woman  will  ever  be  to  him  qnite  what  little  Crystal  Higgins 
has  been.  In  no  way  is  she  at  ail  remarkable  ;  pretty,  but 
icores  he  sees  every  day  are  as  pretty  ;  not  brilliant,  not 
wise,  not  c^ver,  and  yet — she  will  stand  alone  among  ail 
~wo;nànTïôoa~ïorevër  and  èvèF  t^^^ 
not  met  her  yet     She  reached  the  Abbey  early  in  thé  aftcr* 


'      .  Vi 


.;% 


'■.     1  j    .  .  (  •«». 


.,Al!ltf^'i>*^ailtiaA  iuAji*»>m>*. 


K-"  ■■'■  '   * 


.'+!     ,' 


248  KILLING  THEFATTED  CALP, 

noon,  he  hot  hajf  an  hour  since,  and  he  looks  forward  to  the 
meeting  with  nervous  d.itad  that  half  unmans  him.  She  is 
Eric's  now — well,  so  that  Eric  is  loyal,  so  that  Eric  niake» 
her  hfe  happy,  he  c^  forgîve  even  him.  On  New  Year's 
eye  she  is  to  be  Eric's  wife,  and  he  is  bidden  to  the  wed- 
ding.  He  has  had  an  interview  with  Lady  Dynely — of  ne- 
èlssity  veçy  brief.  AU  his  generosity,  ail  Çnc's  disloyalty 
is  in  her  mind  as  she  coihes  forward  to  meet  iiim,  ând  takes 
his  hand  in  hers  and  holds  it  tight,  and  looks  with  pale  im- 
ploring  eyes  up  in  his  face— a  face  that  is  just  a  thought 
graver  and  more  worn  than  she  ever  saw  it  before, 

"  It  is  ail  right,"  he  says,  simply,  knowing  by  intuition  what 
she  would  say.  "  So  that  Eric  makes  her  happy,  ail  the  rest 
is  nothing.  I  don't  blâme  him  much — her  not  at  ail. 
Who  would  look  at  me  twice  beside  Eric  ?Ji 

And  then  he  kisses  h(|r  cheek  gently  and  goes  up-stairs  to 
his  own  old  room,  and  meets, France  on  the  upper  lànding 
on -her  way  todress. 

/•*  Dear  old  Terry,"  Miss  Forrester  says,  giving  him  bôth** 
hands;  "it  is  like  water  in  the  désert  to  see  you   again. 
Go  where  I  will,  meet  wl^om  I  may,  there  is  but  one  Terry  "^ 
pennison." 

"  And  but  one  Mr.  Locksley— no,  I  beg  his  pardon,  but 
one  Gordon  Caryll.  So  youi^,  hero  has  corne  at  last,  Francç. 
AU  your  life  you  hâve  been  ivorshipping  him  from  afar  off, 
now  your  demigod  has  plumped  from  the  clouds  at  your 
feet.  You  haye  thrown  over  Eric  and  are  going  to  marry 
Caryll." 

'•Thrown  over  Eric!"  Miss  Forrester  retorts,  foreetting 
grammar  in  indignation.  "I  like  that  way  of  putimg  it, 
when  everybçdy  ktiows  he  threw  over  me.  A  case  ôf  love 
at  sight,  wasn't  it,  Terry?  and,  amazing  to  rel44e,jt  seem* 
to  last.     I  suppose  you  know  she's  hère." 

"  Yes,  I  know.  Do  you  like  her,  France  ?  But  you  do, 
of  course."  , 

"  I  don't  perceive  the  of  course.     She  is  pretty  enough^— 
oh,  yes,  I  don't  deny  her  pretty  Greciaii  features  and  pink 
-andpeaii  cbihpTexioir;  btrt,  nkè  Sel  —thàt's  wïoffief  trirnE"^ 
Little  idiot  I»  * 


■^ 


1 


m-- 


«"«^««r» 

^ 

^^•< 


KILLING   THE  FATTED  CALF. 


249 


"Aifid  why  little  idiot,  Miss  Forrester?" 

"She  jilted  you,  Terry,  for  him— a  man  for  a  majikîn. 
She  led  you  on»  and  woiild  hâve  mairied  you  if  he  had  net 
coine  ;  and.at  the  first  sightof  his  ambrosial  curis  and  little 
amber  mustache  and  girl's  complexion,  she  goes  down  at 
h;s  lordly  feet.     Bah  !  l've  no  patience  with  her." 

"  But  you'U  be  good.to  her,  France,  ail  the  same.  Poor 
Iittle  Crystal  !     It  looks  a  very  brilliant  match,  and  yet ^ 

"And  yet  she  would  be  ten  thousand-fold  happier  as  ybur 
wife.  The  woman  who  is  lifted  to  the  honor  and  bliss  of 
being  my  Lord  Viscount  Dynely's  bride,  bids  fair,  once  the 
honeymopn  is  ended,  to  win  the  martyr's  crown.  The 
haudsomest  peer  in  the  realni,  the  most  notorious  maie  flirt' 
VA  Europe,  is  hardly  likely  to  be  heîd  long  by  the  pretty,  in-' 
Bocent,  baby  face  of  Crystal  Higgins.  It  was  awfuUy  good 
of  you,  Terry,  to  corne  at  ail."  1  • 

/'^^\]^^n^'''?  wished  it,"  is  Terr/s  quiôt  answer,  as! 
though  ail  was  said  in  that,  and  Miss  Forrester-  shrugg  h«r 
impérial  shoulders.    •  °         '. 

"  j^^  ^^^  ^V^^"?  ^^^  •     You  should  hâve-  been  born  of 


race  ;  the  niotto  of  the  house  suits 


the  Dynely  blood  and 

you— «  Loyal  au  mort:     You  wôuld  be  faithfuï'toThe" de'Tth^ 
l  erry,  I  think.     It  certainly  doe^  not  suit  Eric— it  is  not  in 
him  to  be  faithful  to  any  hunïan  being." 

"  I  wisi}  he  hçard  you,  France." 

"  He  has  heard  it  a  thousand  times.  By  the' bye,  Terry» 
It  occurs  to  me  to  ask  exactly  what  relation  are  you  to  Eric  ?" 

The  clustenng  wax  lights  shed  their  lustre  full  upon  Ter- 
ry  s  face,  and,  as  she  asks  the  heedless,  impulsive  question, 
France  sees  that  face  turn  dark  red  from  brow  to  chin.  '  The 
s\vift  abruptïiess  of  the  simple  demand  sjrikes  him  mute, 
t  he  truth  he  may  not  tell— may  never  tell,  and  falsehpods 
never  corne  tnppingly  from  Terry's  longue.  Miss  Forrésttr 
lays  her  shm  rlnged  hand  on  the  young  man\  arra. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  says,  hastily.  "i  fenow,  of 
mv ^!!]^  n^!^  ^'f ^^"^  cousin;  but,  as  you  stood  there,  on 
my  Word  you  l,^kcd  snfficientlylîkë  Km  to  be  fiFs  l)rotlier. 
I  nave  often  noticed  a  vague  resemblânce  before,  in  height 
and  beaiing  ;  but  never,  I  think,  so  markedly  as  now." 
11*  !  * 


r.   ' 


/-i 


\--- 


250    8W         KILLlffG   THE  FATTED  CALP, 

The  dark,  yainful  flush  deepens  on  Dennîson's  face. ,  He 
looks  at  her  with  startled  eyes.  She  is  wonderfully  aeute  m 
her  surmisef.  Has  some  inkling  o£  the  truth^  corne  to  her  ? 
But  no— the  smiling  face  that  meets  hisis  sûpreraely  uncoiv 
scious.    She  pulls  out  her  watch.  W  y.     j     /'■ 

"  Past  seven.  I  shoùld  hâve  been  under  the  hands  of 
Pauline  an  hour  ago.  Ta,  ta,  Terry  ;  run  away,  «y  dear 
boy,  and  make  yourself  beautiful  forever." 

She  trips  past  and  vanishes  in  one  of  the  upper  rooms  ; 
and  Terry,  drawing  a  long  breath,  goes  more  slowly  to  his. 

"  No,"  he  thinks  ;    "  it  was  but  a  random  shot  that  struck 
home.  '  I  %m  Eric's  distant  cousin^    She  suspects  nothing." 
But  Mr.  Dennispn  was  mistaken.     It  had  been  a  random 
shot:  but,  as  the  red  light  of  guiU  flamed  out  m  the  dra- 
Roon's  face,  the  first  suspicion  of  the  truth  that  had  ever 
coine  to  her  broke  upon  her  then..    She  had  heard  that  vague 
story  of  distant  kinship^she  had  heard,   years  ago,  that 
Lady  Dynely  had  made  a  pilgrimage  to  some  wild  région  of 
western  Ireland  and  brought  Terry  back,  a  httle  uncouth 
waif  and  stray  ;  she  knew  how  zealously  she  had  cared  for 
him  since— she  knew  of  Terry's  boundless  love  and  grati-  , 
tude,  in  which  to  her  there  was  always  somethmg  almost  pa- 
thetic  :  but  she  never  dreamed  there  raight  be  more  on  the 
cards  than  met  the  eyes.     "  Sufficiently  like  Eric  to  be  lus 
brother."     She  had  heard  what  manner  of  man  the  late 
Right  Honorable  Viscount  Dynely  had  been— ^c  s  hght- 
headed  fickleness  was  as  hereditary  as  the  trtle.'^ho  was 
to  say  that  Eric  and  Terry  werenot  brothers,  after  a»? 
Yes,  that  was  the  secret  of  Lady  Dynely's  compassionate 
care— of  Terry's  humble,  patient  dévotion. 

"Poor  fellowl"  sbe  thought,  "  it  is  hard  Une»  on  him. 
The  name,  the  rank,  the  wealth,  the  love— ail  to  the  youn- 
ger;  to  the  elder  brother  npthing.  Ah,  welll  as  poor 
Stephen  Blackpool  says,  '  Life's  aw  a  muddle.'  " 

She  sits  musing  for  a  while  under  Pauline'spractised  hands, 
then  her  thoughts  shift  away  from  Terry  Denmson  to  Gordon 

GaivH^    He  will  be  her&tomightr  and  under  the^^silk,  and^ 

flowers,  and  lacés  her  heart  gives  a  glad  leap.    Since  Aat 
ha|)py  evening  under  the  iQOonlit  limes  and  chesUuits  ttey 


:> 


usâ\ 


\'l-'s0^i 


Ï'T  / 


.^..'^l' 


.  X/LL/Jf^THE  i^ATTED  CALF. 

hâve  not  met;  to-nîéh\  he  will  be  with  her  once  more. 
Howstrange,  how  romahèically  strange  it  ail  has  been,  she' 
thmkî.  From  earhest  childhood  she  has  heard  of  him  set 
hira  up  as  a  hero,  and  loved^in.  inhergirlish,  roraantic  way. 
wuhout  any  hope  of  ever  séeW  him.  And  now  he  is  back 
— her  own,  fore  ver.  \ 

"  Huriy,  Pauline-hurry,  myNcHild,"  she  says  in  French. 

It  wants  but  an  hour  until  hi^rrival,  and  shetnust  be  the" 

!    T    "îffu  '•""•     Already  wh^ls  are^crashing  over  the 
.    gravel,  and  the  guests  are  beginninévto  arrive. 

There  is  a  tap  at  the  door.  \ 

litt^voSe.'  ^'''  ^°"*'''^''  ™^y  ^  «^T"  '''^"  «^y«  ^  t'^^id 
France  breaks  away.  from  Paulinô\  hands,  opens  the 
door,  and  sees  Crystal  standing  JheredreJsed  aqd  re^dy  to  ro 
down  and  trembling  with  nervous  dread  of  tW  ordeal.  She  has 
been  but  little  accustomed  tô  society-u^il  the  eo^iing  of 
Lord  Dynely  and  her  fairy  fortune  she  has  beèX  looked  upon  as 
ababyat  home.  To-n.ght  shemust  docredît\to,Eric's  taste 
r.  K  1/  "'°'^  *'"i'''^^  ^"^  sensitive  of  mknkind-must 
face  half  a  county  and  be  criticised,  and  see  eS's  mortifica-  " 
tion  in  his  face  if  her  country  manners  fail.  Sh^ loves  him 
so  wholly,  that  the  thought  of  his  displeasure  is  a  Wth. 

Iwo  great,  implonng,  blue  eyes  look  up  to  Mi^  Forres- 
£:  f  ^V  •!î"'r'^'- '^^P'"^''*^'"S-the  gaze  of  a  veW  child. 
bJîe  is  afraid  of  this  stately,  da^k-eyed  heiress,  but  noY\half  a 
quarter  as  she  is  of  Eric.  ^  ""i^N^"au  a 

"Please,  Miss  Forrester,  may  I  corne  in  and  wait  iintil 
you  are  dressed,  and  go  down  with  you  ?  "  she  falters     A 
fnJn^"''^  ^^  ^'  her  suddenly  in  her  arms,  ail  her  prejudic\s 
fading  away  at  sight  of  that  pathetic,  baby  face,  puts  haA 
the  feathery,  flaxen  hair,  and  kisses  hêr.  V  s\ 

Iookî;r'"if'''i>^'  baby,!'  she  says  ;  «come  in  an^  let  me  ^ 

»  n  J^^'  ^^  '^*^'"»  ^  ^^^  "°  '^<=a  yo"  '«^ere  half  so  lovely." 
Dink^^lh  r  ^°'-^<^ster"-Crystars  pearly  face  flushes  rose- 
S:a.?^]!:P^^"l""^-"<^°  yo»  think  I  an,  pretty?    Do  you 


^^^f-^^^-^^W^^^'t^^ 


me?" 


"Ashamed  of  you?    WeU,  Eric  is  tolerably  fiutidioiuy 


'  vj 


3fe 


\ 

"  ;4 

'3 

M%0::^i}sâ^ir;. ..., 


V     -,.  ;,  .."W'iï   ( 


..*■.■.,.■.■  '»Aid*i..:*  ^■■\  " 


■•(■■■■ 


'•«l»-»lM«»o*»v»  ,^,, 


'j'^fl^ff^t 


252 


KÏLLING  THE  PATTSD   CALF. 


w 


tolerably  hard  to  please,  but  I  think  even  he  would  find  ît 
iJifficult  not  to  be  fuUy  satisfied  to-night.  ig^a^ljttle  vanity, 
I  won't  flatter  you,  I  won't  tell  you  what  I  Ihink  of  your 
looks.  Only  you  are  more  like  th&  queen  of  the  fairies,  or  a 
'  lily  in  green  covert  hiding,'  than  any  ordinary  mortal  I  e/er 
.  saw.^  Pauline,  what  do  you  think  ?" 

Thei-eupon  Pauline  bursts  forth  into  a  véhément  French 
outpouring  of  praise  and  admiration,  that  brings  smiles,  and 
diraples,  and  blushes  to  Crystal's  shy  fac^e.  "Like  a  lily in 
green  covert  hiding?  "  Yés,  the  poetic  similê  is  a  true  one. 
With  her  filmy,  gossamer  dress  of  palest  green,  hér  pale  pearl 
ornaments,  her  paler  floating,  flaxen  hair,  her  pure,  pale  face, 
her  large,  shy  eyes,  she  lotiks  like  some  wa^er  spirit,  like 
Undine  herself— a  lake  lily  in-its  green  array.   , 

Ten  nnnutes  more  complète  Miss  Forrester's  toilet.  Dark, 
and  stately,  and  tall,  entirely  self-possessed  and  ^  her  ease, 
a  greater  contrast  than  the  two  could  scarcely  be  found  as 
they  descend  to  the  already  fiUed  rdoras.  A  blue,,  silvery 
silk  sweeps  behind  her,  silver  Hlies  trail  iii  the  rich  darkness 
of  her  hair,  looped  with  diamond  stars,  a  cluster  of  fràgranl 
white  blossoms  în  her  hand.  So  Miss  Forrester  and  Miss 
Higgins  dawned  upon  the  view  of  the  best  ca»nty  society;^^ 

Eric  is  watching  for  his  lady  love— Eric,  lookmg  ex- 
treraelypatrician,  and  élégant,  and  his  eyes  light.as  they  fall 
upon  his  betrothed.  Truth  to  tell,  he  has  been  dreading 
this  ordeal  almost  more  than  she  has  ;  his  vanity  is  so  thui- 
skinned— so  much  stronger  than  any  other  passion  of  his 
life.  What  if  she  does  not  do  him  crédit  to-night  ?  What 
— good  Heaven  !— what  if  she  appears  looking  rustic,  or 
countryfied,  or  dressed  in  bad  taste?  He  has  been  turnmg  al- 
ternately  hot  and  cold  for  the  last  fifteen  minutes  as  he  stands 
hère,  when  he  sees  her  enter  therooms  on  France  Forrester's 
arm.  And  then  dqubting  and  fearing  are  at  an  end.  His 
heart  gives  an  exultant  leap,  his  eyes  light,  a  smilc  comes 
over  his  lips,  he  draws  a  long  breath  of  intense,  unutterable 
relief.  Rustic,  countryfied,  dressed  in  bad  taste  !  Why,  she 
U  lovelier  than  he  has  ever  seen  her.  and  her  dregs  is  the 
very  perfectioti  of  good  tswté,  Yes,  thé  country  parsoffr" 
jaughter  jurill  do  crédit  to  Lord  Dynely  tonight 


ICILUNG  THE  FATTED  CALF. 

•n-.K  "LÇ''''^^5^  '^  surrounded  immediajtely,  she  is  besieaed- 
with  pétitions  for  the next waltz,  but  she  déclines     IfcU  h^ 
mientionnot  to  dance  at  ail  before  suppe    anâ  she  tafe, 

in  ;  fis   .u    u       °'.  ^'^'■'■y  gravely  responds.     "  A^è-are  wait 

jrervbest     tLm!      him,  looking  cool  and  lovely,  and  ou? 
S  V  ^  '^  .^  ''^'■y  dehcious  thing  in  the  way  of  dresses 

Mbs  Forrester  bows  her  acknowledgment. 

ieve?r:sTîrr"M^r°"Œ:^s*^rtr™j 

He  pulls  his  tawny  whiskerslrid  tries  to  laugh 
Racheîïn!!  *  V°".^*'-f"lbeautifier-knocks  ail    Madame 
th^v  ?    loS'^^'r  'T  .''^'"  ^^-     Handsome  couple,  aren't 
ÏÏr  thaT    q^hSI  '''°"«''  ^'''^^"'■^  ™^^«  ^°^  ^^ch  oth^r!  and 

ons-irthTnY-K  ^^""^  "°"^  *°  P^y  i  a"d  Lady  Dynely  beck- 
\^!«  reriy  go«i  „p,  „Ki  Crysttl  lifts  those  ioiploriiig,  ipno. 


>-''5 


.-» 


-f  \ 

\ 


'>-'t^-l\ 


,V*MiH.  •^è*'*iitmrm*tji,m^tm^-^ 


i«M^»sr.-y-- 


»5f 


KILLING   THE  FATTED   CALF. 


ceijit  eyes  of  hers  in  humble  appeal  to  hi»  face,  and  fhe  look 
go^s  through  Terr/s  heart  of  heàrts.  Ah  no  ;  she  is  ijot  to 
be  blinied.  She  bas  done  as  eieven  girls  out  of  twelve 
wofuld  hâve  done — thereare  not  many  like  France  Forrester 
to  look  iipon  Eric,  with  undazzled  eyes.  He  pays  bis  respects 
anjd  makes  bis  greetings  in  frank,  brotherly  fashion  enough, 
an^  requests  the  bonor  of  a  waltz.  The  turquoise  eyes  glance 
tiriiidly  up  at  Eric  as  if  sèeking  bis  permission.  For,  earlier 
in  the  evening,  Eric  has  issued  bis  princely  ukase  that  his 
afSanced  wife  shall  waltz  with  no  one  but  himself. 

f  I  don't  choose  to  see  my  promised  wife  gyrating  round  the 
room  with  every  fellow  in  the  county  wbo  chooses  to  ask 
bel:.  Remember,  Crystal,  you  dance  round  dances  with  me 
orily!" 

She  is  very  willing^  If  he  had  ordered  her  to  sit  in  the 
remotest  corner  of  the  room  until  morningdawned,  she  would 

.  bave  obeyed  willingly,  gladly,  sô  that  bis  sultanship  deigned 

_  but  once  or  twice  to  smile  npon  bef  in  her  exile.  But 
Tehy  Dennison,  ]pérry,  who  is  almost  like  a  brother,  will  not 
Eric  make  an  exception  in  his  favor?  Eric,  who  is  to  bave 
sojmucb— Terry,  who  has  lost  ail.  But  Eric's  blonde  brows 
kbit  themselves  ever  so  sligbtly  ;  to  Terry  be  is  not  disposed 
to  yield  an  incb. 

"  Crystal  only  waltzes  with  nie,  Terry,     Scratch  yonr  ini- 
tia^ls  down  for  a  quadrille,  old  boy,  if  you  do  that  sort  of 
idiotie  performance,  and  do  it  quickly,  for  our  waltz  begins." 
Terry  does  that  sort  of  idioti(f  performance,  scratches  bis  \ 

>mtials   accorflingly,  then  seeks*out  I^dy  Dynely.      Lady  ^ 
PyOely  merel  '  wants  him  to  make  himself  useful  ail  night,   ^ 
in  finding  pai  mers  for  unpartnerable  elderly  girls,  and  lead 
the  forlorn  ho  je  himself. 

"  It  is  whaf  Eric  should  do,"  her  ladyship  says,  «but  Eric 
won't  do  it.  If„bê  dances  at  ail,  it  wiil  he  with  the  youngest 
and  preniest  girls  présent,  so,  Terry,  I  look  to  you." 

|"England  expects  every  man  to  do  bis  duty,'"  laugb» 
France  Forrester,  passing  bim,  and  giving  him  a  perfumed 
bk)^  of  ber  fan.     ".  My  poor  Terry  1    Some  men  are  bon» 

=jnartyrsr    S<Mne  bave  martyrdom^thrust^vpe&rthem^^f^ 
to  think  you  are  one  of  the  laiter." 


\g 


û'>^- 


>.'^' 


Û 

!»W    -ï^ï*'    'T- 

w- 

<.,,   - 

.,«»»"  •• 

-"  1  ^K. 

KILLING  THE  FATTED  CALF. 


355 


But  Mr.  Denmson  pulls  on  his  kid  gloves  a  little  tiehter 

liu  ^\.  ^'""^Ç'y^^^  »s  not  for  hini,  ail  the  rest  doesn't 
much  matter.    The  most  vénérable  virgin  présent,  the  scrair! 

Cr         "^        '^""^  ***  ^^  ^°'  '^''  °^S^'  as  the  Venus 

J'-^u\^^"1^f  ^^l*  "there^s  Belinda.Higgins-ril  lead 
off  with  her.  After  tfeat  l'il  take  'eni  as  thTy  come-^Se 
down,  t'other  corne  on."  '  - 

,.  ^^^f""'?°"  «««?  a"d  with  polite  empressement  asks 
the  edest  M.ss  H.ggms  but  one  for   that  waltz.     Eric  and 

SL  V  ^Tr^rw^'""  ''  P"'*t*?'  ^"^  '^'^'  ^*»^^'"«  *«  in  theh! 
thT^\      u    Y'^'^P^'"^  somethmg   in    her  pretty  pink  ear 

laulr    T?j''fJ°°'lf'7"">'""^  ^''  bonyelderlysfster  and 

uli V      I  A  tV     ""'"'î^^'L*^"^  °^  *"'  ^"*  Terry  bears  it  man- 

fully.     Let  them  laugh.     He  is  pleasing  Lady  Dvnelv  he  is 

makmg,  for  the  time,  poor  old  Belindf  happyliel^ksno 

ni?' rl5r'^'*"  ''  "°*  ^*'''^'"8-     S^«  »«  Srom^g  impatient. 

Can   h.'nl  ,  "^''-     Ç*"  ^nything  hâve  happened? 

Can   he  not  be  coming,  after  ^Sll  ?     He  telegraphS  this 

WhvZ 'h  "";''  '^  r*^^*^^™  ^y  ^'^^  «««^^  oSk  triï^ 
wny  does  he  not  corne  ? 

think^nf '^  "^^"^k"     ^^""'     No,  shé   could  as  soon 
think   of   flying.      She  gets  awray  from   Prince  Di  Ventu- 

îi»  ;J       »s  présent,  and  who  dances  like  a  little  yellow 

hril£n.r  Sn  '^"'^''^'  ^^'  \*y  ^'■°'"  ^^^  ^ar™»  briUiantly  lit, 
bnlliantly  fiUed  saloon,  to  the  cloak  room-,  throws  a  heavi^ 

OcSyb^^n^l  ^  ^"'"^  ^^^^^^  and  goes  out  into  the  chill 
A  wild  autumnal  gale  is  blowing,  the  tré^  rock  in  the 
SbWL';T"«'ÎK**'  fl-^«  e-th  Sd  sky  aTd  dSnt  JLa! 
whiJ^^iH  T  ^''^  POi:?co  steps  and  stands  alone  on  the 
white,  cold  terracc.     The  stone^ns  gleam  Jike  «ilv^r; 


^^rmTnarbre  stands  with  his  face  uplifted  to  thepurplT 
Bky.  defying  the  hghtning.    Above  the  roaring  of  thï  gÏÏe 


1 


356 


KILUNG   THE  FATTED  CALF. 


she  can  hear  the  deepH"  hoîu:s«^  roar  of  the  far-off  sea, 
.  above  ail  the  sweet  ringing  W' the  Gennan  waltz  music 
within.  The-old  stone  Abbey  is  lit  to  the  roof— cotintless 
figures  Ait  past  the  Windows  like  shapes  in  a  magie  lan- 
-tern.  She  stands  hère  alone,  wondering  why  he  does  not 
çoine.  Suddenly,  over  the  soughing  of  the  wind,  the  toss- 
ing  of  the  trçes,  there  cornes  a  sound  that  makes  her  heart 
spring,  her  eyes  light— the  rapid  roll  of  the  wheels  up  t|ie 
drive,  The  carnage  wasï«ent  two  good  hours  ago  to  nieet 
him  ;  ail  is  well,  he  is  hère  at  lasf. 

She  leans  eagerly  forward.  Yes  !  the  tall  form  of  her 
lover  leaps  out  and  approaches.'  He  sees  the  soHtary  figure 
standing  on  the  terrace— the  pale,  expectant,  eager  face 
upon  which  the  white  moon  shines.  He  is  by  her  side  in 
a  niomeht,  and  France's  perfect  hour  has  corne. 

•*What!  waiting  forme?"  hesays;  "  getting  your  death 
,  out  in  the  cold.     Corne  into  the  house  immediately.     Ho#. 
long  hâve  you  been  hère?"  ^  v 

"Not  long — ten  minutes  or  more.     I  must  confess^^ 
feeling  just   a   trifle   uneasy.     You  are  two  hours  bel^i^f^^* 
time."  « 

"  And  you  took  it  for  granted  that  perishing  in  a  bal. 
dress  on  the  terrace  woùld  fetch  me  the  sooner,"  growls  Mr. 
Caryll,  but  he  takes  her  happy  face  between  both  his  hands, 
and  his  frown  changes  to  a  smile.  "  Yes,  we're  two  hours 
behind  time  ;  gqt  shunted  off— misplaced  switch,  something 
wrong  with  the  road — I  was  asleep  at  the  time,  and  knew 
nothing  about  it  until  we  were  under  nyay  again.  High 
jinks  going  on  within,  aren't  there  ?  AwfuI  bore  to  go  and 
dress  and  ^ce  thera  ail." 

"  You  would  rather  face  a  régiment  of  Sepoys,  I  dare 
•ay;  but  a  brave  man  never  shows  the  white  feather,  be 
the  danger  what  it  may.  Will  you  go  to  your  room  at  once  ? 
—the  dear  old  atelier  where  my  portrait  was  painted — ** 

"  Atid  the  unhappy  painter  hopelessly  donc  for.". 
-■««Has  been  fitted  up  for  your^uisej'^-goés  on  Miss  For. 
rester.     "So  run  up  at  once,  get  into  régulation,  costume, 
and  comè  down  to  be  looked  at."  > 


*^!      îv 


;tÎ2^S: 


vf,    ./ 


v   :"? 


sea, 

lusic 

■t 

tiess 

lan- 

not 

toss- 

leart 

>  the 

neet 

her 

face 

.'" 

e  in 

;ath  ' 

>    * 

■  1    .                ( 

lO)^. 

?                  ."^ 

'^' 
^ 

>aifi' 
Mr. 

■^ 

ids, 

'^^!ê 

>urs" 

ing 

*.-'{ 

lew 

j 

igh 
ind 

are 

t       ' 

be 

:e? 

or. 

'; 

nCt 

-      i^i                  1 

w 


:,<i> 


JC/LLI/ià  THE  FATTED  CALF. 


^57 

"  Caryll  asks,  in 


:ins  has  been 
^  will  be  the 
[dupon  you/' 
id  through^iia 


"Threehundred,  ifone;  and 
stared  at  until  they  <jan  stare   n 
cynçsure  pf  ail  ;  everjr  eye  will  bl 

She  laughs  at  his  blank  face.H 
arm,  and  leads  him  into  the  housel'     1»  ".' 

say /'7eirre"vt;t';;; "^î/'  ^'^^  ^^  -  -^  -«^^t  dJd  ,he 

cules?barto  tdlToï'efirvtî'n?/^''  /  ^''^  '^"^^  ^^  »- 
the  past  seven  Weeks TouS  bf  f  H '''"r  "'^  '  ^^s  said  in 
She   says  this,  for  one  A?n^    ÎJ,  ¥^'-<^">«an  task  indeed. 

corne.    She  will  chajieron^yÔÛL^'L'^^j.P-'"*   <>' 
;;  Are  .you  go.ng  bak,  Gordon  ,„"*"""' 

u»s^';;brr„n'asrte.^/..''-"''*"'  " 

,;  She  knew  you  at  once  ?  "  .  j,,;^^ 

scre^^î^nf  :  'SS^lTcT Lv  î^  T '^^  ^'"^^^  ''*'^ 
ward  and  took  me  in  her  Ir^cl  1^^  '~~'^^  J"'*  ^a»»^  ^1^ 
on  either  side      dutwardl?^«n   ^k  """^  °°^  ^"""^ '^  «Poken' 
her  little  less  than  th^v  h.   *",  ^''°»«  y«^«  hâve  çhanged 
She  woulcr£4  a,me  ^uL  ?^^  ''  ^^^^r  feeble. 

being  able,   ànd  Ton^ng  V^  fo'u    sh^^^^^^^^^  k^°' 

you  and  Lady  DynelvShl,,  f^  ^  k  '  ,**»«=   ^ids.  me  bring 
France?"       ^  ^^"6»/ whe^  J  go  back.     Will  you  corne, 

';^r^L;mu:;,s\3^f 'gj^^     t^- 

place  on  New  Year's  Evî  «Ah  fc.       .  Ç"^.^  wedding  takes 
"Bridesmaid  r^5,!.^*??>f.™.J?.'^«  ^^1  bride^naid.- 


**rt;. 


•I 


<?y 


,j0ai4i:ii,vt»s,^^ 


W: 


'.V-f       '^- 


.     ^ 


258 


KILLING   THE  FATTED   CALF. 


A'pril  ;  not  a  day  sooner  than  May*  And  then,  i  i  the  heighl 
of  the  season,  with  flying  colors,  if  you  insist  upcn  it,  we  m\\ 
niarch  to  St.  George's,  and  you  shall  be  made  rnjserable  for 
life.  No,  it's  of  no  use  putting  on  that  implOring  face; 
when  niy  decree  is  issued,  ail  the  éloquence  of  men  îails  to 
*  move  me.  Go  up  to  your  room — ^you  hâve  not  a  moment 
to  spare,  you  are  shamefully  late  as  it  is." 

She  releasés  herself,  and  hastens  back  to  the  ball-room.,, 
Near  the  fentrance  she  meets  Eric  on  his  way  for  ices  and 
orangeade,  and  in  her  face  he  reads  the  truth. 

"  *  Lo  !  the  coriquering  hero  cornes  !  '  and  Mjss  Forrest- 
er's  eyes  light  up  their  lamp^,  and  Miss  Forrester's  cheeks 
flmg  out  the  flag  of  welcome.  I)iad  about  given  up  the  hero 
of  the  nightas  a  laggard  in  love;  but  betterlate  than  never." 
Half  an  hour  passes,  and  then  into  their  midst,  so  quietly 
that  but  few.find  it  out  for  the  first  hour,  the  "hero  of  the 
night  "  enters,  He  makes  his  way  to  Lady  Dynely's  side, 
and  she  who  has  met  him  daily  but  seven  short  weeks  be- 
fore,  greets  him  as  though  she  had„never  looked  upon  him 
since  that  Ajigust  night  by  the  lake. 

"Itis  likea  fairy  taie,"  she  says;'«'I  cannot  realize  it. 
I  thought  you  dead,  in  spite  of  ail  of  France's  hopes,  in 
spite  of  the  yearly  gifts  to  your  mother.  And  to  think  that 
we  hâve  fou  with  us  once  more.  But  you  are  g-tatlv.  won- 
derfully  changed."  .  4  ^        ^ 

«'  Well,  yes,"  Caryll  answers  ;  "  a  dozen  years'  campaigning 
is  apt  to  change  a  man.  Still,  I  flUnk  you  half-recognized 
me  that  day  at  the  Academy." 

"You  see,  I  could  not  realize  it,"  her  ladyship  answers, 
leanmg  on  his  arm,  and  making  her  way  slowly  through  the 
rooms.  "  The  voicei»as  the  same,  and.  the  eyes  ;  but  I  had 
made  up  my  raind  so  entirely  never^to  look  upon  you  more, 
that  I  wouldh't  admitthe  likeness.  'Still,  it  drewme  to  you. 
It  was  for  the  sake  drthat  likeness  1  wished  you  so  much 
to  accompany  us  hère." 

"I   came  to  my  destinyM  he  laughed.     "But  for  that  A 
journey,  France^nd  I  wohld  never  hâve  arrived  at  an  un- 
derstanding,  anoT  I  should  haveÉkone  down  to  mv  gravt     . 
^tîordon  l^sléy.^" -—^V''^-'  ^^c— 

4r     m. 


/.^" 


y,: 


% 

M 


5Sj!2E,'JlS.*^ù-7ï  'S?.  ■■ 


•<-    «  i-ir". 


y!' 


tu^ 


KILLING  THE  FATTED  CALF. 


'ift 


not  donc  so  badly  with  your  life  Vn„^  '  ^^  ^"^  ^^^«^ 
foryourself,  with  your  sword  and  Jl  '^^^^  ^«^  ^  namc 
nave  won  France  ForreS  wl7^^  yo" 

generous,  loyal  heartT    î  h.7Ï^  ^  heart-such  a  great, 

Istha^lSSlrg^re^a^^S^Ï^^^^^^^  hin,,  I  trust,  also. 
blossom  face?  the  bride  elect  ?  wLÏ  ^""j  T ?  *^«  ^PP'^' 
Présent  me,  Lucia,  wiîl  you ?"  *  '"°^^^  ^°^  "ndine  f 

eyen.ng,  meandering  through  the  T  fn^.  ^^'^'''^  °^  the 
of  ail  observers.  France  dan.!  T  ^'•V*''^  ^^^^  observed 
Eric,  with  Terr^  whom  she  rescS.  7'  "^"^  ^'''^°'''''  ^"^ 
lady.  with  unple^lsanSy  pro„,S„T^^^ 

pleasantly  prominent  rougeTSks  Whh  t^  S  '^"^  ""- 
Venturin    last  of  ail  h*.for«   j^^'^*'     ^"h  the  Pnnce   Di 

Mr.  Caryll  advancefto'ctS  h?s';"r;pertt%n'^.H'^r  ^"^^ 
grlSj^--  ^^^  ac,uainta„rf„T;l:!;:  S^^t 

gail'So: -^ur^f'tï^^  ^-  loss  in  your 

never  receive  ^hat  yc^ipronSed  hll    .1^^''  °°^  «"^^  ^"l 

.tureto  'How  the  St  Fdî'"  ^^^^  companion  pic- 

«aZe  tes  'i'  ;;  2i^^^  "^^^'^^^^-  "  Then  let     . 
yet  hâve  the  companion  pK  \Z  ^^.f  ^  ^'^^  ^'^-» 
'Howthe  Morning  Bro)?e?-  ^^^  '''''"  ^«  ""^  »*? 

W  i°?h  \:',^"""  ""'  ^  ^'"'^^  '^-t  -ys  the  dawn  has 

"Acharmingtitle,"criesDi  Venturini      «11/     t     ,*. 
onsieur  ever  seen  Madame  Felida  ?"  ^^  ^  ^"^  '^^ 


259       # 


.  — -""itig  iiiic,   cnes  ui  Ventiii 
•Mnwur  ever  seen  Madame  Felida?" 

=i^mdsl^::^r^;^,r^'mi  


ioLLondop- 


a. 


m. 


^  t' 


*-<-»&,<„ 


>1  !*^ 
:    Ï.*V 


260 


I,  ^ 


% 


Kl  LU N  G   THE  FATTED   CALF. 


tt'a  Jg^^g.""'^  ^"'^'  ^"^  ^  ^"^  '°"S  lost  my  relfsh  fo, 

.m!!!' ^i^^  '"''^•^^  ^  ""'^-     ^'  Venturini  looks  at  him  with 
small,  keen,  ghttenng  eves. 

hZ^ïf""?'  monsieur/ but  I  inferred  from  what   I  hâve 
heard  Madame  Felic.a  say,  that  she  certaînly  knew  you." 

me  in"hï'lTfe.'''  ^""'''     '^°  "'^  Knowledge  she  never  met 

"  Ah  I  ray  mistake  then,  of  course.  She  wîll  be  charmed 
to  leara  that  she  is  to  hâve  the  companion  picture  " 

He  bows  himself  ofiF,  and  France  and  Caryll  go  into  sun- 
pertogether.    That  pleasà^t , banquet  is  prolonged.     When 

''  T^Vl'^^^f  knotof  Miss  Forrester's  admirers  press 
.  around  and  p  ead  wuh  her  to  sing.  She  yields  and  is  led  to 
the  piano,  still  on  Gordon  Caryll's  arm. 

"Sing  '  Ay  Chiquita,'  "  some  one  says. 

She  points  to  a  pile  of  music,  and  Mr.  Caryll  tosses  ît 

Fr^n.^    r   '\^  '°"^^    ^'  P'""««  ''  "P°"  the%iano,and 
Frances  sl.m  fingers  float  over  the  keys  in  tendeV  prélude 

He  is  replacmg  the  loose  sheets  as  he  found  them,  ihen  ail 
at  once  he  stops  still-stops  with  one  ç)f  the  pièces  in  his 
hand  and  stares  at  it  as  though  it  were  a  ghost.  He  s 
gazing  atthe  outer  page,  nofat  the  music,  with  a  face 
from  which  every  trace  of  color  slowly  fades  out.  The 
song  begms-Miss  Forrester's  sweet,  vibrating  voice  fills 
the  room.  He  never  hears,  he  never  heeds.  Every  feeline 
of  sight  and  sensé,  and  hearing,  seems  concentrated  in  thaï 
fixed  rapt  gaze  on  what  he  holds. 

PrJnJ  n-  r^'"'  •  •"^'!f  J^^'^'^  ^'■^'^"  composed  by 
IZV  tîl  ,ï"^."""''  ^"d  d,«d>î=ated  to  Madame  Felicia^ 
Below  the  itle  is  a  cobred  vignette  of  madame  herself 
leanmg  smihng ly  forward-.«  ôus%.  '  It  is  abeautiful  face- 
Si  ^  ^^  ^"''°J'?r«d  lithograph  cannot  make  it  other- 
nitiSlS:"  '"'  '*^  '"'  ""^'^  thei.  briUiant  smile  on 
So  long  he  stands  there  holding  ï't,  thât'theVsong  ends. 
aiïfî'f^Jf  a.™"'-™"'-of  Pleasure  and  thanks  from  thegroup 
about  the  piano,  but  the  singer  Uirng  from  »U  for  a  «aile  o< 


tL 


1/     !f 


«f^«l        Utl>     • 


p  i?r.  m 


Hk 


KILLTNG   THE  FATTËD  CALF.  ^.êi 

praise  from  him.     His  face  is  averted.  he  is  bendirlii  ovei 
a  pièce  of  nnisic,  and  does  not  sjjeak  a  word 

«.  ri,T!'''î  /'  "  ^°"  ^^^^  .*^^''^'  ^°''^°"  ?  "  She  aste,  gayly. 
«*  chat  holds  you  so  enchained  ?  "  ^  ''^  ^' 

''Monsieur  honors  my  poor  composition  with  his  closfst 

,   lair  face  that  holds  him  spell-bound?" 

Their  words  arouse  him.     He  laysidown  the  sheet  and 

before,  Oioiigh  the  name  is  new  to  me.     In  America,  or  Can^ 
ada  probably-madame  has  been  there ?"  ^^ 

He  hstens  for  the  reply  with  an  intensity  of  eagerhess  his 
outer  quiétude  does  not  betray.     Prince  Di  Venturini    ook 
at  hiin  with  quiclc,  suspicious  eyes. 

"But  no,  monsieur— Madame  Felicia  has  never  crossed 
the  Atlantic  in  her  life."  '     ^robseu 

"You  are  sure,  prince?" 

own^lifr  ^"S^  T^'  '"onsieur.     I  hâve  it  from  madame's 
owniips.     She  detests  everythmg  transatlantic."    * 

I  hâve  been  mistaken  then,"  Caryll  says,  calmly  ;  «  I 
really  thought  I  had  seen  that  pictured  face  befor™  ^  il  is 
merely  one  of  those  chance  resemblances  we  meet  some- 
tmies.     I  once  knew  a  person  who  looked  ver)vlike  that." 
He  offers  his  arm  to  France  and  leads  her  away.    No* 

f^Snt^H        ?  ""^  -"^J""*'  ^"^  ^^'•«"gh  au  the  hoirs  tha7 
tollow  the  pale  gravity  never  quite  leaves  his  face.    And 
oncerwhen  ail  are  dancing  and^the  music-room  is  entirelv  de^ 


<-»,»»^  u  i    T °  ".,i,^i.it  umsic-room  is  entirelv  de 

Li  nf  ïf  f  "^^  \^\^  î^^''  °^  ^"^^  l'^g"'*  ^hat  has  the  pictured 
lTr.S\  ^*^f' e  I-e  'ca,  and  conceals  it  quietly  in  one  of  his 
pockets  for  further  inspection.  ^  ui  ms 

th7l«^  *^'""-  ^''^''^f'  '"°™^"K  ^5  g'"*y  'n  the  east  when 
the  last  carnage  rolls  away  from  the  great  gâtes  of  Dynely 

^,     V?  f    ^r',?^"*  t°"sehold  betake  themselves  to  theiîr 

room  tK,^  ^'Z""  ^"  ^T  ^^'"'  ^«'■^°"  Caryll  sits  in  his 
^??„"^'A^f^P'^^^f.  ^P'-f^d?"^  before  him,  gazing  steadfiàstly 

iiiough  it  held  hitn  by  some  sorceress'  spelL 


t 


'  'H^f'^'-»";^?^^^'^-'    --_ 


^• 


262 


KILLING   THE  FATTED   CALP. 


r        ■  /         ■ 

"Her  eyes,  her  smile,  her  every  féature,"  he  says  uridei 
his  breath.  "Can  there  be  twô  woinen  on  this  eârth  so 
uiuch  ahke  ?  Years  older,  but  the  s|lme.  Had  she  a  sister, 
?''~  rr  ,  ^  Sraye  given  up  its  dead  ?  H;,  v*-  /-orne  bacJt 
(rom  Hades  itself  to  torment  me?  " 


/ 


'y  /  ;    •>, 


!;%*■,        ,#f.. 


'    i^V    ^"   ■ 

.     •    t 

r 

'  '^ 

"        fe*  '""^    ■'' 

^^ii^ 

\ 


^  ,  -.^' 


CHAPTER   XIX 

HOW  THE   OLD  YEAR  ÏNDED, 

T  is  the  njghiof  the  jist  of  December,  and  the 
vcarage  orStarling  is  bright  with  îfghts,  g^y  wUh 
people,  merry  with  nmsic,  and  festive  with  feTst^ng 

Crystal's  wedding-day  ^"^  to-morrow  is  pretty 

Tpn!^^^  TK   ^î  ^«^"-t^ord  Dynely,  his  mother,   France 

f.  ^P''^°'L Caryll  is  not  here-he  is  the  only  absentée  of  the 
Ir  V"^  ,s  back  with  his  mother  under  ^e  Saî  Roman 

fn  h^;?!.S''  wmter  and  she  grows.mo.^^d  more  e^rgeante 
Li\  ^o?^'-  ^"^,T'^°'  ^""'"  hèr  restored  idol  ouTff  her 
^qh.  .Ia  Ï^  i'  ^'^  ''f'  «"^^'^y  to  Miss  Forro^ter-s  refiret 

She  and  Lady  Dynely  hâve  but  just  returned  fm»  iXfor 
thi,  weddjngrtbey  go  back  for  the  iin  ter  when  it  iK    The 
first  week  in  May  she  and  Gordon  are  t(?li  maWed  and 
Jfter  thetr  bridai  tour,  settle  down  at  CarynynnrÂ^^' 

onleT  f"""  *•?  i^'y  ^^""'^^  beautifyingVd  puttinWift 
order.     Enc  and  h,s  wife  wiU  take  up  their  abcSe  at  thï 

Th^'eT;  tTo"^:^^.  "  l^erJointureVu^,  I^ylV^IÏ^ 

^J^.yJ     S»*^^n  Lanççrs"  are  ^ounding  ^way  over  the 

of  Jhe  elder*^-    —    • 


"  aci  ui   -aixteen  L.anç( 
crawing-room  carpettoth 


<rhn  tggvrt^o'Vi.  — .r^^>^  "^gptping  of  jhe  eldeât^igg  HitfKitWr 
IX^n  ?  ^  P'a"o  fooi.  They  will  support  ilatiireW^ 
f  %  on  lemonade  and  negua.    Eric  leads'^Sff  the  reieuJ^ 


i  • 


*=, 


*Âi 


Kr^'i**,'^— 


"V*  "^ 


1'* 


% 


HOW  THE   OLD 


[g  hàpi>y  and  %3.nclsgtne,  and  îh,:d|e  wildeS| 

It  lis^^ifficiilt  Jj^g  tdtbelieve,,  but  on  tliis  e^ 
love  "as- he  was  tl^e  daf 
)ossibly  îrtOt  last— but  ît  iîiintjoir  J«,f,!:«'' 
ica^^g;Iy''ileQâlSHHPK|P^&  Met,  and  little  Cry stal  is  ready  ' 
enQtî|^h-1pj^f^jè$t^Pém  for  Crystal^     ' 

W0in^,)lfac|^j|^^  ^'^^^ISPI^'^^  fjaîrest,  iooi  to-night.     Th^- 
<^afê  hÔti|içâ>^i|S^ié«|Jp^^  ^[iôe)|6,  a  streaming  Ijght  in  her  hîtie 
IWes;  ,hi4^sïii^«|,;^{isli'l'îtttè  4augh  rîhgs  out  in  her  joyc^^ 
exfcitenîent;     EVen  iiovir,  on  the  eve  oif  her  wedding,  she  ^ 
■     hardly  régifee  her  owri  bliss.     Surely  it  is  the;  môst  wonde'  *  ' 
|»„freak  (rfûrtune  th^i  gives  this  darling  of  the  gods  to  be  hc 
'^^  very  owf!nl).motrow  morning  at  elèveh  o'clock.     It  is  eleveii 


'f*  tt 


T. 


peàch-bloom  face   to   her  partner 
'Js^gh^^    As  a  rule,  she„has.b(it  little  to  s^y,  bpt  she  can 
'^m^ays  talk  to  Terry,  ^a.nd  neyer  half  so  gayly  as  to-night. 
p'Tei3:y  is  her  partner,  and,  wbatever  he  may  feél,  no  one  out- 
war^ly  is  happier  there.  , 

Miss  Forrester  is  not  danciitg.  Shè  îs  flitting  restlessly 
aboùt,  hère  and  there  and  everywhere.  The  rooms  are  gar- 
laisded  with  holly,  and  ivy,  and  mistletoe  ;  giorious  fires  are 
burning,  and  in  the  dining-room  a  Ipng  table  is  set  out,  to 
■VKhich  the  ^ay  co.mpany  will  sit  down  presently  to  toast  the 
îSIlfr'-Year  in.  No  room  is  vacant  ;  sentimental  couples  sit 
spaoYiin^  in  spoony  little  nooks,  go  where  you  will.  Thè 
vicar  and  Lady  Dynely,  a  portly  dowa^er  and  Sir  John 
Shepperton,  thé  neafeçt  magnate,  sit  aJ;  whist.  Sp  the  tuo-  ] 
^luents  fly.  ; 

Presently  France  steals.  away,  aiid  leavinç  the  hot,  brij 
rogms,  goes  out  into  the  por<ih.     It  is  a;  dazzhng  winter  ni|^ 
the  earth  lies  ail  white,  and  sparkling  and  frt^zcn,  undèi| 
glittering  stars;    ^^e  wtaess  trees  stand  motiot; 
.black  branches  sharpW|pced  against  the  steel 
Far  oflf  the  village  bellf^e  ringing — bells  that  rin^ 
dyirtg  year.     ône  hour  more  a^d  the  new  year 
'jiedi|  Jt  Jasi&  bee&  a  very  happy  yeag  .to.  the 
itnnds  i^rè,  in  her  white  dress  and  perfumy  roses,  an^ 


/    , 


^OkT  THE  OLD   YEAR  ENDED. 


26$. 


-J 


4  bn,o„ade.     TerrySs  cA-s.aÏÏ;  f  ^*,'"'  ^^  ''""''^"g     ' 
D«  you  see  r^y'^lL^Î^Tfoi  Z^C' S^^S  "^^ 

don"  «ïïall;  l  S   „T'T  !?  ""Jl  "  ■""<='•.  «n?i 
,  •r'"^^S^. ^ '"^ '="^1  y^ff^' •■  -'vpie. 


'i: 


-«-^  I 


'^■,< 


H 


H^J.  -(*» 


266 


OLD 

i 


YEAK  ENDED, 


H<^  THE 

I 

"Then  you  take  lier,  Terry,"'  coramands  France,  and  Tètiy 
obeys,  as  usual,  whlle  Sir  John  offers  his/arm  to  Miss  For- 
rester,  and  Lady  Dynely  takes  the  plac4  of  honor  b^^tfeti 
vicar's  side. 

It  is  a  yery  long  table,  and  the  party  is  not  so  large,  even 
counting  the  nine  daughters  of  the  hoiise,  but  ihat  they  ail 
find  s«ats.  For  it  is  not  a  "stand-Op  feed,"  as  Terry.says, 
where  every  chickett  wing  ai\d  every  glass  of  wine  is  fought 
for  d  outrance.  And  then  the  battle  begins-^the  fire  of 
knives  and  forks  and  plates,  the'sharp  shooting  of  Cham- 
pagne corks,  the  chatter  and  clatter  of  laughter  and  talk,  of 
toasts  and  compliments.  Th«  boar's  head  that  has  grinned 
as  the  centrepiece  with  a  lemon  in  its  jaws,  is  sliced  away, 
raised  pies  are  lowered,  wonderful  pyramids  of  amlier  and 
crimsonjellies  are  slashedinto  shapeless  masses,  and  lobster 
salads  vanish  into  thin  air.  f 

The  moments  fly — the  last  hour  of  the  old  year  is  fast 
drawing  to  its  close. 

"'Ten  minutes  to  twelve,^'  cries  Lotd  Dynély.  "H  ère' s 
to  the  joUy  New  Year,  Let  us  drink  his  health  in  the  good 
old  German  way,  to  the  one  we  love  best." 

He  fiUed  his  glass,  looked  at  Crystal,  and  touched  his  to 
hers.  I 

'^The  happiest  of  alî  happy.New  Years  to  you,"  he  sa;ys, 
"and  I  am  the  first  fo  wishit." 

A.nd  theri  a  chorus  of  voices  arises.  "  Happy  New  Year  1  " 
cryliU,  and  each  tur'ns  to  sonaebody  else.  Lady  Dynely 
stretches  forth  her  hand  to  her<,,son  with  a  look  of  fondest 
love  ;  Terry  Dennison  leans  over  to  her  with  the  old  wistful 
light  in  his  eyes.  ^^  The  vicar  and  .his  wife  exchange  aflfection- 
ate  glances.  France  turns  to  no  one  ;  her  thoughts  are  over 
the  sea,  with  one  absent 

Then  they  ail  rise,  and  as  by  one  accord  throng  to  the 
Windows  to  see  the  New  Year  dawh.  White  and  clear  ^the 
stars  look  down  on  the  snow-white  earth  ;  it  is  still,  c*lm, 
beautiful.  From  the  village  the  joy-bells,  clash  forth  ;  the 
old  year  is  dead — the  new  begun. 
--_llL.e joi  est  niortl— yive  le  roi  l'^ exçlfUiïis  I<Qr!3  Pyngjy'- 


"  May  a^l  good  wishes  gd  with  hiiri," 


# 


t^' 


^'iitik^m^ 


'^^ 


-■  /, 


^0«^  7-^^  (7ZZ)   Kff^/> ^vvrz,^^. 


26/ 

bo,S'!S%rt.''/;i?,ti.    He  «rite,  .he  k,..,s  wi*,. 
out  :  r  "'«  "ch  ténor  voice  rings  sf  iritedly 

"  A  îollïr  "^  ''''  *'"'"P«"  t°  the.brùn_ 

Everyoneforhisown. 
S5  ?hfi;;iS  \"^,~W.  »y  «end; 

you  also.  hashenot?    AsTen'^  ^  ^^^  ^"^"^  ^ 

a  fnend  and  a  true.  true  love  •  "^       ''^''  '  H/brought  you 

La^XeiÎr^irhVSj"^^  ^.">  iinishes 

Let.us  hQpe  for  bette?  Lff».AnH'"°"*  *ï"°^^*'*'"' ^"<^- 
elect.  as^you  are  to  be  uu  betJm^  .  "°'^'  ""^  ''"'«  bride 
that  you  go  ta  bed  at  onœ  eïfh.f'^^'''^"^'  ^  P^°P°«e 
yours  w  11  be  /ello,v  as  any^^ant  ^tHZl''  f'^'^  ^^^«  «' 
ôo  :t  is  ovef^  anH  fh«  „     ""*"ëe  ^t  ttïe  altar  to-morrow  " 

^     -^  «^oPPing  rfhf  ^^^^^^^  Theg^sts 

others  disperse  to  their  rooml  th  «°°5^-"f  «^t  and  eo,  the 
one  sees  bet^een  thê  haDDV  oa^  /fT  "  t^^^^^"  ^^'^^  no 
into  the  white  starry  nigK^sSe  n  " ,  ^"l  ^""^«'■='  «"t 
and  Crystal  is  kis^ed  b/niaZ.  o"5 'f  ^^^^''^'^^  <^'gar, 

^  -Tne  mofninff  coii£Hflfi!r«ijriri' 

r,  evcrybodirdôwh  ftr&fre  -^Ti'^iï^^*^^*-— - 


"-carnages  at  thç 
Pi^raè  Rour  Has  co 
Up  ia  her  "m 


bower,"  tte  bride  ,un(]|^,^be(^f„ 


if'vi 


'A 


Hl^'^S^n* 


t^: 


W7''.' 

4rofv 

îTffB  0Z/>   kff^iP  ENDED, 

.'  #\ . 


"7 


.% 


H-» 
-î^' 


^ 


.368 


the  alta^  The  hot  red  roses  of  laaifnîght  bave  âiedl  Vjt,  ! 
is  pal«r  t^an  the  white  silk  she  wears.,,  The'chilly  nuptia! 
flovvers  f^e  on  her  head,  the  filmy  veil  shrouds  her  like  a 
<nist^  ^?Èiient,  lovely,  she  stands  in  the  midst  of  her  maids, 
npt.  çlnaèj  not  speaking,  with  a  great  awe  of  the  new  life 
tha};  i§©€ginning  overlying  ail  else." 

^^  is  led  down,  she  enters  the  carriage,  and  is  whirled 
aw^through  the  jubilant  New  Year's  morning  to  the 
chur^hj  There  the  bridegroom  awaits  her.  The  church  is 
full  ;  villagers,  friends,  guests,  charity  children,  ail  assembled 
tô-see  the  vi^r's  prettiest  daughter  married.  There  is  a 
mighty  rustling  of  silks  and  moires  as  'tiie  ladies  of  the  family 
flock  in,  a  flutter  of  pink  and  snowy  gauze  as  the  six  bride- 
take  their  places.  France  is  at  their  head,  and  divides 
the  aâmir^tion  of  the  hour  with  the  bride  herself.  AS  usual 
thiéi)ridegro(ïra|4windles  into  insignificànce' — the  one  epoch 
in^the  life  of  man  ipj^en  he  sinks  hislordly  supromacy  and  is, 
comparatively  speaking,  of  no  account.  Terry  Dennison  is 
there,  lookin|  pale,  and  cdld,  and  misérable,  but  who  thinks 
of  noticing  Am/  Only  FraiK:.e%;compassionate  ,eyes  look 
at  him  once  as  he  stands,  silené  an<ï  unlike  hiin|^lf,  with  an 
infinité  pity  in  their^rk  depths.     '     .  ' 

It  Begins — dead^6tence=^lls.    l'iit  iow  murmured  re- 

sponses  sound  strangSÇ^  audible  in  that  hush.     It  is  over — 

ail  draw  ône  long  bfeath  of  relief,  and  a  fluttér  and'a  mur- 

mtir  go  through  the  jllg  congrégation.     They.<M;iter  the 

,  ve^y— the  register i^*%çëd— they  are^Pàck  in  the^rriagëS^ 

w^irling  away  to  thé  wedding  bréakfest)  athd  bridegroom  mi^ 

i^ide  are  together,  ànd  the  ^ight  Hon«»|fe;Lord  Viscouht 

'  ©ynely  i$  "  Benedick,  thç  MarrieJiMay     -  ^        ^  ^ 

^^Âfter  that  the  hours  ây  like  mi|flft|.    They  £lre  back  at  thé 

yiearaçe.^  Thèy^are  seated  at  br^ippt,  dfempagne  corks  fly, 

tbags  ai«  drunk,  spâècbes  ma(^^d  msponded  to.''   The 

_  tootil's  h^ndsome  face  is  flttâhed,  his  blue  eyes  glitter, 

Il  his  feigoed  langûor  and  affected  boredom,  for  the  time 

being,  ulterly,at  an  end.     By  his  Side  his  bride  sits>  smUing, 

Dlushing,  dimpling,  most  divinely  fair.     Opposite,  is  Terry 

^tmisoPi  Uyiiig^-htfftfi^y  ttt  ïight-fadk^and  Iftughtet^  ' 


*       ^^, '■it;*'^.  j    '    V  vi^i^ii.  ,-_«J^>4**'^*i!^   î     -r^' 


■-•<»  ■'■: 


'^"^mH 


JrOHT  THE   OLD    YEAR  ENDED. 


269 


Vr^rl^H       •  •     ^^^'l' sensitive  little  créature  at  best 

stanSsTrf>3te  S'?™  '»<:«santly.  France  Forrester 
it)B  of  ri»  M.I.  ï  ''"^  ?"<■  '"  •■'■■  ""««t  a  vague  feel- 
Zdw^f  W",|;=  «"»ot  «ne,  for  .hi,  fragile^Iooktag 

pray'tS!:?!":;;  die^.'"»  -^  ""  '    ™™  I  -  eUher.  I 
loot  %S°nJàte'rr"""''  ™  "''  """^  «'"■«■>'"8  »  <>« 

pmpMc1oicethSiS!'°.r'i  .r/"'"-"  ^'"'  '"«■■<'. 

may  iàlL"  "hispered;  "and  Ihe  dooni  he  lias  invoted 


^^Wu«Tal^^^""?f^r---'^_j-; 


ï: 


~"-~^l 
'i<^ 


270 


B^fV  THE  OLD    YEÂR^NDRD. 


"  Look  to  yourseir,  Dyr.ely,"  he  said,  in  a  hoa.  se,  hurried 
voice,  •'  if  you  ever  forget  that  vow  I  " 

Then  he  ran  rapidly  up  tbe  stairs  and  disappeared. 

Lord  Dynely  looked  after  him,  shrugged  his  shoulders 
slightly,  and  làughed  again. 

"  Poor  old  Terry  !  "  he  said,  "  *.  the  ruling  passion  etrong 
in  death.'  As  much  in  love  with  Lady  Dynely  as  he  ever 
was  with  Crystal  Higgins.  Ah,  well  I  time  bltints  thèse 
things.  Let  us  hope  he  will  hâve  lived  down  his  ill-starred 
niadncss  before  we  nriieet  again." 

The  bride' 8  door  opens — a  flock  of  pink  and  whitp,  and 
sky  blue  nymphs  flqtter  out. .  The  bride  for  an  instant  re- 
mains  alone.  Indiffèrent  to  what  may  be  thought,  niay  be 
said,  Dennison  enters,  goes  up  to  the  new-made  peeressi, 
takes  both  her  hands  in  his,  with  a  clasp  whose  crueUy  is 
"unconscious,  and  looks  down  with  gloomy  eyes  into  the 
startled,  milk-white  loveliness  of  her  face. 

"  Crystal,"  he  says,  his  voice  hoarse  and  hurried  still;  "  I 
inust  say  one  word  to  you  before  we  part.  If,  in"  the  time 
that  is  coming,  you  are  ever  in  trouble,  if  you  are  ever  in 
need  of  a  friend,  will  you  send  for  me  ?  AU  our  lives  we 
hâve  been  as  brother  and  sister — by  the  memory  of  that  bond 
between  us  let  me  be  the'  one  to  corne  to  you  if  you  ever 
need  a  friend." 

She  looked  up  at  him.  To  the  day  of  his  dèath  that  look 
haunted  him — so  radiantly,  so  unutterably  hàppy. 

"/  in  trouble  !  /  in  need  of  a  friend  1  "  she  repeated  in 
a  slow,  rapturous*  sort  of  whisper.  "7J  Eric' s  wife!  Ah, 
Terry  !  dear  old  fellow,  dear  old  brother,  that  ^n  never  be. 
I  am  the  happiest,  happiest  créature  on  ali  God's  earth  !  " 

"Yet,  promise,"  he  réitérâtes,  in  the  same /gloomy  tone. 
"  Who  can  forcsee  the  future  ?  If  trouble  ever  cornes — 
n^i|id,  I  don't  say  that  it  ever  will — I  pray  it  never  may— 
but  if  it  cornes  and  you  need4ielp,  you  will /send  for  nie? 
Promise  me  this."  ' 

"  It  is  treason  to  Eric  to  admit  any  such  supposition,"  she 
laughs  ;  "  I  dorit  admit  it,  but  if  it  will  please  you,  Terry," 
the^TaaiâiîFtrilIîance  oThèr  «yies  sâftens  t^TJlty  âS"^Hr 
looks  at  him,  "  I  promise.    It  is  a  promise  you  will  neveî:  bt 


W^'\ 


V     \ 


y- 


f 


'V-, 


'■'  ^■"'î^,  ?..-"''' 


.>: 


^Off  7W»   OZD    YEAR  ENDED. 


271- 


callcd  upon  to  redeem^remembèr  that.     No  4rouble  can 
ever  touch  me.     Eric  loves  me  and  has  made  me  his  wife 
Let  go,  Terry— he  is  cailing."  *\ 

Hé  releases  her  hands,  she  holds  ont  one  again,  with  thaK 
tender,  compassionate  glance. 

"  Good-by,  Terry,"  she  says,  softly.  "  If  I  hâve  ever  giveii 
you  pam  I  am  sorry.     Forgive  me  before  I  go." 

"  There  if  nothing  to  forgive,"  he  answers,  huskily.  «tNo' 
ma»  on  earth  could  help  loving  you,  and  ail  women  seem  to 
love  ^m.  Good-by,  little  Crystal,  and  God  in  heaven  blesa 
you  !" 

It  is  their  parting.  She  Aies  down  the  stairs  tô  where  her 
nnpatient  possessor  stands. 

..."ï-r^^as  saying  good-by  to  Terrj-,"  she  falters,  trem- 
bling-already,  even  at  that  shadowof  a  frown  on  his  god-rUte 
brow.     But  at  sight  of  her  the  shadow  changes  to  briehtest 
-sunshme.  ^ù  "  » 

"Goodxby!  good-by!  good-by  I"  echoes  and  echoes  on 
every  hand. 

The  bride  is  kissed,  and  passed  round  to  be  kissed  again. 
apd  there,  iscrymg  and  confusion  generally,  and  in  the  midst 
of  it  Miss  Forrester^  wicked  black  eyes  are  laughing  at 
Enc,  who  stands  inwardly  fumineat  ail  this  »  confounded  , 
scène,  mortally  jealous,  and  longmg  to  tear  his  bride  from 
them  ail  and  niake  an  end  of  the  howling.  , 

It  does  end  at  fast;  he  hands  her  into  the  carriage, 
spnngs  after,  slaras  the  door,  the  driver  cracks  his  whip,  and 
they  whiri  off  from  the  door.  A  shower  of  slippers  are 
hurled  after  them— then  the  carnage  tums  an  angle  and  dis- 
appears,  and  ail  is  over.  .^^ 

*  *  *"^^/^^        *  * 

The  guests  begin  to  dispMse;  «Sme  at  once,  some  not 
until  next  day. .  A  gloomy  sdeW^f^Us  over  the  lately  noisy, 
merry  house~it;s  ahiiost  as  Oieugh  thete  had  been  a  death. 
Keaction  after  so  much  excitement  sets  in,  everybody,  more  . 
<?rless,  looks  misérable.  Tcfrry  Dennison  is  the  first  to"  go 
^.m^PsJns  régiment     Ladj  Pynely^Amager,  aSid  Misa 


>-l 


TO'estel- are  the  next,  they  return  for  the  winter  to  Rome  2 
and  Miss  Forrester  makes  no  secret  of  her  eagerness  to  be  off 


-   .  3 

\    .... 
i 


■d... 


>'J 


2   ■::- 


r> 


272 


ffOff^  TffE  OLD    YEAR  ENDED. 


'  The  next  day  dawns,  sleety,  rainy,  chill,  a  very  winte»  day. 
The  last  guest  has  left  the  vicarage  by  the  noon  train  and 
thé  dépression  and  dismalness  is  more  dismal  than  ever. 
The  eight  remaining  Misses  HigginS  watider,  cheerle&s  and 
misérable  of  aspect,  through  the  lately-filled  rooms,  setting 
to  rights  and  taKingiip'the  dùU  thread  of  their  dull  gray  lives 
once  more.     *"  ■  '*' 

When  night  fall§,  shrouded  in. sleety  fain,  the  dark  old 
vicarage  stands  sombre  anc^fbrlom,  despite  ihe  présence  of 
those  eight  bright  créatures,  under  the  inky,  dripping,  Lin- 
cçlnshire  sky. ,         .  * 


# 


f  ■■  ,     ■ 


\ 


yt  V       S         • 


*.i.l  " 


%!^ 


■J'u' 


■fpt 


% 


PART  THIRp. 


CHAPTER  I. 


J 


/,"V    » 


HOW  THE   NEW  YEAR   BEGAN. 

RAW  and  rainy  February  evening— the  first  week 

I  *"*=;,"^°"f'^-'    Ovçr   Londolf  a  wurky,  smoke- 

coIore4  sky  hiing,  dripping  wet,  misérable  tears  ovei 

the  muddy,  smoke-colpred  city.    The  fanïous  "  pea- 

atmosphère"   was   at  its   very  pea-soupiest— figures 

1  to  ând  fro  tbroiigh  thé   murk,  like  damp  spectres. 

.1  ^X,'"  great-çoats  and  umbrellas.     The  street  lamps, 

•thaf^  'bee«  ht  ail  ^ay,  winked  and  fliçkered,  yella*r  and 


4^ial  specks  in  the  fog. 

^he  street5  of  the  city  were  niieci  witn  noisy,  jostli 

the  sfreets  of  the  West  End  were  silent  and  de^Kod:     The 


city  were  filled  with  noisy,  JQstling  Ufe- 


dçadest  of  ail  dead  seasons  had  coiiie  ;  th^grçat  black 
houses  were  hermetically  sealed;  the  denizens  of  Belgravia 
and  Mayfair  had  flitted  far  away  ;  |ven  the  brilliant,  gas-lit 
empôruuiii  of  Régent  Street' were.  enipty  and  deserted  this 
îoggy  PebrOary  evening.  *  #' 

lAt\tho  bay^urindow  ofone  of  tKe  great  club  houses  of  St, 
jani(^r  Street»  â  man  stood  smoking  a  cigar  jand  staring  tnood- 
«ly  fft^  at  the  dark  and  disnial  twilight.  The  wet.  lîag-stones 
ghnimered  h  the  pallid  flicker  of  the  stféeto|affps,  few 
and  far  between  ;  drencljed  and  iraggled  pedJStrians  went 
Su.^f.'JL!  fu^"  a  hansom  tt^re  past,  waking  tftc  y ..e- 
^«r  echges.   -rtië^  Ififfigs  were  alrtlTe  min  at  the  É^*^ 


«I* 


dowhadtostareat^^butfor^thelasjJçurhithadWpodtherl   ^'*' 


*  '  0 


i* 


■'«^?jî;^ef;-'" 


.% 


....^M 


^:* 


■  M 


•ffi',' 


SSS''.' 


274 


ffOfV  THE  NEW  YEAR  SEGAN. 


r» 


motionlèss,  ^his  moody  eyes  fixed  upon  the  rain-beaten  glass 
The  solitaty  watcKer,  strànded  upon  Western  J^-ondon  at  this 
most  inhospitable  scason,  was  Terry  Dennisor».  TerryDen- 
nison  who  yesterday  had  obtaitted  afortnight's  leave,  and  who, 
this<îf»îary  February  evening,  foundhimself  intheoldfamiliar 
quarters— why  or  wherefore»  he  hardty  knew.  There  were  num- 
bers  of  country  houses — bright,  hospitable  houses,  to  which  he 
held  standing  welcome — houses  where  a  "  southerly  wind  and 
a  cloudy  sky  proclaimed  it  a  hunting  raorning,"  but  he  had 
thrown  over  ail,  and  was  hère  as  utterly  alone,  it  seemed  to 
hini,  as  though  he  fifad  been  wrecked  on  a  deserted  island. 

The  five  weeks  that  had<^^ssed  since  Christabel  Higgins' 
wedding  day  had  made  but  slight  outward  altération  in  Terry. 
He  was  iooking  haggard,  and  jaded, — the  honest  bUie  eyes 
kept  the  old  kindly,  génial  glance  for  ail  things,  but  they 
look  out  wifh  wistftll  weariness  to-night.  Where  are  they 
this  wretchéd,  February  eveoing,  he  wonders — where  is 
fhe,  \^5hat  is  she  doing  ? 

Are  àhe  and  Eric  doing  the -honeymoon  still  in  the  leaf- 
less  groves  of  Brittany,  or  hâve  they  gone  to  Rome  to  join 
the  Gordon  Caryll  party,  where  Lady  Dynely  a,nd  Miss  For- 
rester also  are  ?  An  unutterable  longing  to  see  Crystal  once 
more  fills .  him — it  is  folly,  he  knows,  something  worse  thajj 
foUy,  perhaps,  but  before  thèse  two  weeks  of  freedom  expire 
he  must  stand  face  to  face  with  Viscount  Dynely's  bride. 

The  last  gleam  of  the  dark  daylight  is  fading  entirely  out  as 
a  hansoni  v^irls  up  to  the  door  and  deposit  sits  one  passen- 
ger.  The  glare  of  the  lamp  falls  full  upon  him,  and  Oennison 
recognizes  an  old  acquaintance.  As  the  luan  enters  he  turns 
and  holds  out  his  hand. 

"  What  I  you,  t)ennison  ?  My  dear  fellow,  hapyy  to  meet 
you.  I  saw  a  face  at  the  windo^y  and  thought  it  ^as  Maca^* 
la/s  New  Zealandër  conie  before  his  time,  to  philosophize 
over  the  désolation  ofLondon.  &astly  weather,  as  usual. 
How  three  millions  of  people,  more  or  less,  can  drag  out 
existence  tlyQugh  it-JJ^  * 

The  spçaker  flingsViiniself  into  a  chair  and  gives  up  the 
problem  in  weary  disgust. 


V 


I  thought  you  «rere  in  Gteece,  B^rrard,"  Mys  Tenjr, 


iw'.,.jf^, 


„i\i. 


•Àl      i    «.«MK^ 


'if     yf  • 


)-'-■.<»** 


HOW  THE  'NEW  YEAR  BEGAiV. 


275 


throwring  away  his  cigar,  and  depositing  himself  in  a  second 
easy-chair. 

"  Was,  ail  January.  Gave  it  up  and  came  to  Paris,  to 
hav«  wjiat  our  transatlantic  neighbors  call  'a  good  time  •' 
and  just  as  I  was  having  it  (Felicia's  there,  you  know),  came 
a  telegram  from  Soniersetshire.summoningmehome.     Gov-    '  \ 

ernor— goût  in  the  stomach— thinks  he's  ;goipg  to  die,  and 
wishes  to  hâve  ail  his  offspring  around  hib.  It's  thelifth 
tmie  1  hâve  been  summoned  in  the  sanie  way,"  says  Mr.  ^ 

Burrard,  m  a  disgusted  tone,  "and  nothing  çver  comes  of  it. 
Ifs  ail  bypo  on  the  governor's  part,  and  the  family  know  it  ; 
but  as  hé'Il  eut  us  off  with  a  shilling  if  we  disobey,  there's' 
nothing  for  it.  It  was  beastly  crossing  the  Chanr>*«1,  and  l'ni 
always  Seasick.  It's  an  awful  nuisance,  Terry— giv^  you  my 
Word,"  Mr.  Burrard  gloomily  concludes. 

"  Hard  lines,  old  fellow,"  laughs  Terry.     "^t  u#h||îe 

this  time  that  your  journey  will  not  be  in  vain.  m>  Paris  is 

-lookmglively,  is  it  ?     No  February  fog  there,  I  ^ppos<|?    I 

shouldn't  mind  running  over  myself  for  a  few  days.     Many 

people  one  knows  ?  "  | 

"Lots,"    Mr.  Burrard  sententiously  replies  ;  "  aft"^  as  l\ 
said  before,  la  belle  Felicia  at  the  Variétés,  younger,  an4  love/ 
lier,  and  more  fatal  than  ever.     Gad  !  Terry,"^e  diine  ait 
o(  petits  soupKrs  will  never  die  out  while  that  wonârk  «îxists 
She's  a  sorceress  and  enchantreïs,  a  witch.    St»ç  must  ie  fivër 
anditWrty  at  the  very  Icast    and  last  nighl^  as  I  sat  be«dé 
her,  I  could  bave  taken  my  oath  ahe  wasn't  a  <%  morç  thah 
seventeen."  '    ^.  *, 

"  Hard  hit  as  ever,  dear  boy."  Terry  says,  lighteg another 
rcjgaha.  "  I  thought  that  was  an  old  story— over  and  ^one 
with  âges  ago— that  you  wer*  ckrthed  and  in  vour  n^t  mind  *    iS 

once  more,  -and  about  to  taike  oivto  younNÉT  a  i^fe  of  tlie  || 

cfeiugltttrs  of  the  land.     Ha»eonç>' 

He  ppBRmts  his  cigar  case  ami  box  of  Vcamrian^  and 
Burrard  gloomily  sélects  and  lights  ©p. 
"  Yo«  know  Felicia,  Terry  ?  "  he  asiis,  aâier  a  «noli»  pifaie. 
Terry  nodti.        *  ' /*^ 

"  )i(m  never  wewe  ©ne  of  her  victims  thoûtfh,  were  ron^ 
Uis.other  punues.  r  "'~ 


h 


jV 


91.  ■ 


l'iK-i,  A  ,t^M\.,i..i-^%  . 


.  .-iMm/.     .. 


J^Hil^TÏ 


tà^j^  £■*' 


-ir,«sa^'#^"> 


370 


irOfV  THE  NEW  YEAR  BEGAN. 


«-^u      *,  'V  °'^    feUpw,"Terry    laughs    goodhumjredly. 

1  he  rôle  of  quarry  to  apy  woiiian'g  hawk  is  not  in  the  least 
-  '  niy  Jme.  And  I  never  could  see,  for  the  life  o/me,  what 
there  was  in  belle  Felicia,  that  raen  should  go  down  before 
-  her,  hke  :corn  before  the  reaper.  "  She's  a  monstrous  fine 
woman  for  those  who  admire  the  swarthy  sort,  which  I  don't 
and  knows  how  to  use  those  two  black  eyes  of  hersl  but 
that  dancerhas  never  dànced— were  it  the  daughter  of  Hero- 
dias  herself— who  could  quicken  my  puises  hy  one  beat." 

"  You're  a  cold-biooded  animal,  Pennison,  l'm  afrâiiï," 

fesponds  Mr.  Burrard.     "Your  insensibility  to  ail  woman- 

kmd  has  passed  mto  a  proverb.     You  always  had  the  entrée. 

too,  when  Felicia  was  in  Lon'don,"        ^ 

•^  "1  had  thegood  fortune  to  be  of  some  slîght  service  to 

1  °,"n°"^  occasion,  and,  like  ail  women,  shfe  magnified  a 
niole-hiU  mto  a  mckihtain.  So  sheis  still  as.  fatal  as  ever— 
who  is  the  last  uhhappy  devil  who  has  falleh  into  hër 
clutches?" 

"Their  namé  is  légion.     Therelarê,  two  American  million- 

aires  over  there,  ready  to  blow  eaçh  olher's  braîns  out  about 

her.     There  is  an  Austrian  archduke,  with  five-and^twenty 

quartermgs,  an  empty  purse,  and  «le  -bluest  of  sang  azuré, 

<.       ready,  they  say,  at  a  moment's  notice,  to  nuke  hef  his  wife. 

rhere  is  Prince  Di  Venturini,j,who  has  corné  lo  his  ôivn 

^        again,  since  the  young  Italy  partjp  took  the  reins— that  affaif  is 

old  and  settled  ;  it's  an  unders^opd  thîng  \\  she  behaves  he-- 

self  she  is  to  be  Madame  la  prmcess.    And  last,  but  by  no 

means  least  in  the  fair  Felicia's  ejês— since  the  bracelets,  and 

nngsi  4nd  nibbish  of  that  sort  he  gives  her,  they  say  would  fiU 

a  Rue  de  la  Paix  jeweller's  window— is  young  Lord  Dynély.'» 

Terry  has  been  lying  back  in  his  dhair,  dreamily  watchjng 
the-  clouds  of  smoke  curl  upward,  and  taking  but  a  languid 
interest  in  the  conversation.  At  thi's  naniei  he  sifa  suddenly 
upnght,  staring  wîth  round,  startled  blue  eyes.  - 

"Who?"  heasks,sharply  and  suddenly.      ■    *  •      ; 

"Dyn«ly— knowhim^.  don't  votf?    Oh,  by  the  bye,  yes-^ 
you  and  he  are  connections,  àren't  yoû  ?    Alarried  at  Christ- 
..maa-country  pafôon'j^aughter,  didn^^  hr,  ajlj^n  the  quifft  ?  ^ 


WeU,  my  icoraTMTgoing  t&e  pace  hôw,  I  câatêiT^i^ 


-^ 


-« 


.•l'âii,  ;    ■- 


'^^r^ir't'i^w. 


H 


1  .'il* .. 

(  '•■.■-  ' 


ffOW  THE  NEW  YEAR  BEGAN. 


277 


"  Biiriard,  do  you  mean  to  say  Dynely  is  in  Paris  ?  " 
•  "  Been  there  the  past  three  weeks.     Went  to  Brittany  01 
Normandy,   or  somewhere  for  the   honeymoon— so  I  was    ' 
told  ;  found  love  among  (lie  roses,  a  week  after  maffiaiony," 
awtully  slow  work;  most  men  do  in  like  case,  poor  devils  ■ 
set  the  proprieties  at  défiance— couldh't  serve  ont  his  sen'      v' 
tence  ;  came  to  Paris,  and  fell,  like  the  greenest  of  ail  eratn 
goshngs,  straightway  into  the  talons  of'^at  bird  of  paradS. 
^  tehcia.     By  the  bye,   birds  of  paradise  haven't  talons    ï 
daresay,  but  you  know  what  I  rilsan."  >  , 

The  color  ;ias  faded  out  of  Tercy's  face^  leaving  him  verv 

pale.     Mr.-  Burrard,  with  whojn  the  handsome  dancer  is  evi- 

^ently  a  sore  subject,  and  who  is  also  suffering  evidently 

-Trom  an  attack  x)f  the  green-eyed  uionster,  goes  ag^ievedly 

"  Never'saw  a'feilow  so  far  gone  in  so  short  a  tinie— eive 
you  niy  honor,  Dennison  !     He's  mad,  stark  mad,  running 
after  that  piratical  little  démon.     It's  early  days  to  leave  the 
pretty  wife  alÔiie  in  their  big  hôtel.     'AU  Paris  is  talking  •    " 
about  \t,soito  voce,  of  course.     Did  you  kno^  her,  Teity  ?  " 

Burrard's  sleepy,  half-dosed  eyes,  look  across  at  hinîj^nd 
note  for,  the  first  time  the  sudden,  startled  pallor  of  his 
lace, 

:    "yes— ï  know  her,"  he  answers  slowly.     "Hqw  is  she      " 
lookmg,  Burrard  ?  "  .  ^ 

*'  Never  met  her  but  once,  and  thaï  was  before  #e  Felicia  '  '  ' 
had  gobbled  her  husband  up  body  an(f  bones.  I  «let  them 
dnvmg  m  the  Bois,  and  i  remember  everybody  was  turnine 
to  stare  at  the  littlç  blonde  beauty.  She  appeared  also 
one  mght  at  an  embassy  bail,  and  was  the  talk  of  riie  clubs 
for  the  next  tBree  days.    |t  was  her  first  and  last  appear 

u^^u^'  \^^f.^.  ^.I'^'"^  ^^'"'  ^"'  invisible  to  the  naked  éye. 
Whilô  he  foUow*  Felicia  like  her  poodle  or  her  shadqw,  the 
imie:one  niopes  at  homfe,  I  wouldn't  say  ail  thts,  Denni. 
son,  you  understan^,"  layà  Mr.  Burrard,  fearing  heh«s  gone 
m  far,  «  but  it  is  piJjlic  tait  in  Paris,  Dyn^ly-g  infetuatioti 
is  patent  to  ail  the  wbrld.'V  .  '  * 


Burrard  has  never  seen  on  that  caretosg,  good4iuiïiered  faco 


'l 


k 


"  "  Jfc- 


•-,  •  .'-r-'YJ^jg  ■w»-«*«^^»j^. 


-^,2^: 


iyo»'  3r«ff  A^^»'.  Kfi^je  brcan. 


^M^are.     It  is  set  and  stern,  the  génial  blue  eyes  gleam  like 
^feel.     But  he  speaks  very  quietly. 

"  And  the  Prmce  Di  Venturini  allows  her  to  câfry  on  ïike 
lis  ?  Wjde  latitude  aar  a  future  princess,  you  must  own. 
LGcomm^ating  sort  of  Neapolitan,  the  prince." 
-Understand  me,  Terry,"  says  Burrard,  answering  this 
laa  sneer  rather  earnestly.  "  I  don't  mean  to  say  Felicia 
,^oes  much  fiirther  than  some  of  our  own  frisky  matrôn*  do. 
"  A  flirt  she  is  à  oufrancc—she  would  flirt  with  her  ownlf:has- 
settr  if  no  better  game  oflfered.  Beypnd  that,  scandai  goeth 
not.  Di  Venturini  is  most  assuredly  a  man  who  can  tàke 
care  of  his  own,  ^  dead  shot,  and  a  noted  duelist.  Madauie 
is  also  most  assuredly  his  fiancég.  She  has  an  ame  dàtnn'ee, 
who  goes  about  with  her  everywhere— the  widow-of  an  Eng- 
lish  curate,  and  propriety  itself  in  crape  and  bombazine. 
But  she  takes  men's  présents,  fools  them  to  the  top  of  their 
bent,  cleans  them  out,  and  throws  them  over,  with  as  little 
remorse  as  I  throw  away  this  smoked-out  cigar.  '  One  down, 
t'other  conie  on,'  that' s  the  fair  danseuse's  motto." 

There  was  some  bitterness  in  Burrard's  tone.  Evidently 
he  was  one  of  the  "  cleaned  out  and  thrown  over."  He 
arose  as  he  spoke  and  looked  at  his  watch. 

"  Hâve  you  dined,  Dennison  ?  Because  I  bave  order- 
ed — " 

"Thariks— I  dined  two  hours  ago.  Don't  let  me  detain 
you,  Burrard,  and  good-night." 

He  went  slowly  up  to  his  room,  his  face  keeping  that  set, 
stern  look. 

She  has  no  father,  no  brother  to  take  her  part  ;  I  may  be 
th^t  to  her,  if  I  may  be  ng  more.  If  Burrard's  slory  be 
trte,  thén  it  is  high  time  some  one  went  to  the  rescue." 

His  Qwn  words  came  back  eo  him.  Had  the  tiœe  corne 
already  for  hiin  to  défend  her  against  iIm;  husband  she  loved, 
and  for  whom  she  had  jiltsed  bim  ?  Me  knew  Eric  well— 
knew  how  recklessly,  insaoeiy,  he  tore  every  passion  to 
latters— knew  how  little  hoJc^-pnjnc^e  or  fiddity  had  upon 
bim,  knew  him  weaker,  more  unstabie  tiao  water,  selfish  to 
****  "^^    ~ir~'HTn  rf  nH    mniraiiOTiM   iihiii    liiu 


=9mw 


SI 


^i^' 


HOW'THE  NEW  YEAR  BEGAN. 


279 


'(* 


r'- 


fancleswere  concerped.     And  into  the  keepirg  of  such  a' 
man  àà  this,  little  Crystal's  whole  heart  and  life  haji  been 
given.  .^  '^  t 

"If  he  ia  false  to  her,"  Terry  ground  put  between  h;s  set. 
teéth,  *•  ru  kill  him  with  my  own  hali^;      Only  one  short 
montlî  his  wife,  and  neglected,  forsaken  already.     Oh,  aiy  . 
little  Crystal  !    My  lîttle,  pretty,' innocent  Cryptai  !  " 

He  remembered  his  words  to  her  on  her  wedding-day  : 
"If  ^u  aré^ever  in  trouble — if  you  ever  need  a  friend, 
>promi^4o  send  for  me."  She  had  not  sent,  poor  child  !  but 
she  ha^  not  forgotten  those  words,  he  knéw.  He  would  go 
to  her-Vgo  at  once.  While  Eric  was  kind  shc  had  liot 
neededl  him— Eric  had  tired  of  her,  was  on  wilh  another 
lovdl  before  the  honeymooa  had  waned — she  needed'*^iiii 
nôw.  Jlfes,  he  would  go  at  once — to-morrow— by  fair  means 
or  foui;  Eric  must  be  niade  to  quit  Paris  ;  and  that  painted 
sorcefess,  who  wrought  men's  ruin,  must  be  forced  to  give 
lî^ét  his  allegiance  to  his  wife.  He  should  not  neglect  her 
ànd  break  her  heai*!  with»impunity. 

Thatnight  Terry  Dennison  spent  tossing  feverishly  on  his 

bed,   irstening   to   the    lashing  rain,   and   chilly,   whistling, 

\February  wind.  ;|>  Before  the  dark,   iiiurky  day  had  fairly 

broken  he  was  at  the  London  bridge  station — at  nightfall  he 

was  in  Paris. 

****** 

Thé  February  weather,  so  bleakly  raw  in  London,  is  bril- 
liant  with  sunshine.^sparkling  with  crisp,  clear  frost  hère  in 
Paris.  The  great  avenues  of  the  Bois  and  Champs  Elysées 
may  be  leafless,  but  the  hoar  frost  spamkles  in  the  early  sun-^ 
shine  Uke  silver,  the  icicles  glitter  hke  pendant  jewels,  and 
the  bright,  glad  life,  that  never  under  the  Parisian  sky  gruws 
duU,  is  at  its  brightest. 

On  this  rùght  that  bnogs  Deenisoa  to  Paris,  gaslight  bas 
taken  the  place  of  sunlight,  ané  seems  to  &«  eyes,  accus- 
tomed  to  London  fog  and  dneanness,  no  whtt  less  dazzling. 
The  bright  streets  are  thronged — the  huge  front  of  the  Hôtel 
Du  Louvre  is  ail  a  glitfttr  of  gaslights  as  his  fiacre  whirls  up, 
iiuU  dcposicy  fainraiid  iiis^  purmaiitegnrgrtlîg  ettinmce. 


kii 


/. 


>-\ 


#/ 


**  Can  he  liave  a  coom  ?  "  he  asks  the  gentlemaaly  deikt 


«i- 


h^ât^h.^^^. 


fê^^'^  /i4L.  MâlK  u     '  d.^^     V,^  .^  r^  'W 


O 


280  J^ÔHT  THE  NEW  YEAR  BEQAN. 

And  '«  Mais  oui  monsimr,"  is  the  answ.^r  •  •«  ^k 
',      rooin  at  nionsieur's  service   b,rtT-      .       '1   ^'^^''^  '»  ""C 

Monsieur  does  not  care  •  he  nr^nar».  V  ' 
backanda^s:  '         Prépares  to  mowit,  turn» 

;;  Lord  and  Lady  Dynely  are  hère  ?" 

wiU  Eric  «S  hini?  Tf  r"!"^^  '^  ^he?  and  ho^r 
does  not  Smate^ihisLd  J'-^^T^  f^^  be  true,  it 
hâve  corne.         "'^"^'^-'"s  and  Eric's  day  of  reckoning  ^iU 

iJyDy'neHs'Z^^^^^  -»'«  of  roon.s.V- 

wide  velvet-cushioned  window  sa  oCtV'°'''^'\  °"  ^'^^ 
busy  quadrangle  below  wherT  flL  k^ '''"^-  ""^  ^"Hiant, 
and  tal.  pa.nfs  standl^k^'^d^Th"  t^  ^"^«J 

ho>»  she  crashes  lier  nrofi,,  h:„  i  *  ,!  """■  "«diess  of 
of  her  eyes.  '  The  Jt  blônHTv  f,f  ^."f  bU.e  silk,  the  l,„e 

to  see— Eric  ia  n»i.rT  mauer?    Eric  is  not  hère 

.   cres  for  her  „„  „o,e-ato  Ae  de,„g°  ""'""'  =™-      «=  , 

ho"eLTur;:r''Thi%!'''4'''  ""  --•  -^•■"  -f^' 

W^  pre.ty.'yo.uhS,  S-,!   CTt ,  '"SurJ'l'  ""°" 
She  haseatenof  thefrppnf  ii««    "'  *i'».  cmidish  nO  longer. 

^ocence  of  the  soft  fair  face,  that  made  htff   tTh''^  '"^   ' 
Jgone— its  peach-like  dimni^rf  «.  7i        u  '^^  charni,  is 

'^early  fairn'ess  has  tûrtj  t^^^^^^^^^^^  the 

rose  bloom  has  entirelv  fad^  tl*  f  J~^"'  ''^'^^^^^  '^«'^ 
hâve  taken  a  look  o  ptientlel^ft  t"^  J"r*-°''^  «>'^« 
SIX  weeks  a  bride  and  7h!:  w!P^I'  **Tf*d  »«  see.     Not 


/ 


'.i«a 


àS^^SSÎ^iik%^>- 


m 

MF^^^-' 

sT'™;   -v' 

^ 


ffOW  THE  NEW^  YEAR  BEGAIT, 


281 


grown— are  loosely  clasped  in  her  lap  ;-  her  tired  eyes  watçli^ 
listlessly  the  crowds  that  pass,  tfie  many  vehicles  /tliat  flash 
up  to.  thcgreat  doorway,  apd  flash  away  again.     Her  mind 
isas  listless  as  htr  looks.     She  has  been  àlone  for  two  hours 
— two  we^ks  it  seems  to  her.     She  does  not  care  to  read,  sh<^^    ' 
cannot  go  out,  she  cannot  call  in  her  maid  and  talk  to  heiV^ 
.and  there  is  no  one  else  she  knows.     For  Eric— well,  the 
largest  of  the  small  hours  will  bring  Eric  home— perhaps. 

Suddenly  she  ■  starts.  From  a  fiacre  that  has  just  drâwn  " 
up  a  man  leaps  out.  The  lamp  light  falls  upon  him  for  a 
second,  and  Crystal's  heart  gives  a  leap.  Big^  broad-shoul- 
dered,  ruddy,  bearded,  in  thi  famihar  Toufid^iat  and  suit  of 
tweed— how  much  it  looked  like  Terry,  Oh  !  to  see  Terry 
once  more— dear  gld,  ever  kind  Terry  !  oh,  to  see  any  of 
them  from  home— ewen  sharp  EUzabeth  Jane  or  snappish 
old  Beliflda.  What  a  long,  long  tim^  it  seems  since  hei 
wedding  day  ! 

Her  wedding  day  !  It  is  only  six  weeks— six  littlç  weeks, 
a»d-how  happy  she  had  been  !  That  day,  with  ^its  dé- 
tails, returns  to  her  with  a  pang  of  remembrance  tMMpierces 
her  heart.  She  recalls  Terry's  parting  words'wkh  strange 
vividness  noV— in  ail  thdse  weeks  she  has  never  thoughtof 
them  before.  » 

"  If  in  the  time  that  is  coming,  you  are  ever  in  trouble, 
if  you  ever  need  a  friend,  will  you  send  for  me  il!    Ali  our  •     ' 
livesrwe  hâve  been  as  brother  and  sister— by  the  rnemory  of     \ 
the  t>asl,  let  me  be  the  one  to  help  you  if  you  ever  stand  in 
need." 

Shé  had  laughed  in  her  happy  incredulity  then— ah,  ' 
how  true  his  words  had  come.  But  she  could  never 
send  for  him,  or  for  any  one  on  earth  ;  her  troijèje  wâ« 
a  trouble  she  could  only  take  to  the  good  God  M  alone  * 
could  befriend  her  hère.  How  had  the  change  come  about  ? 
— was  she  to  bUme?  She  could  not  tell.  Her  mind  went 
over,  in  a  dazed,  helpless  sort  of  way,  ^11  her  brief  married 
me,  and  the  fault  hâd  not  been  hers— that  she  knew.  '. 
They  ^ad  been  so  happy  in  Brittany,  so  iotoisely  hanpy 
■i-with  a  happine»^ha^«ha —    "  cin^..^fci.   *l-l 


«»   f 


**  Spread  out  thin,  might  hâve  covered 


*(* -L^ÉiiUtî-'      'ÏJtff:.        ^t.» 


;êr  sâ)^^ 
kbiy  thcil 


à  ii. 


:..4 


'    o       '"1   ' 


\** 


t,, /.  ijn    (/^e.-f  •  »?  ' 


F.r^ 


282 


^P^  77/^  A^^/T  K^^^  sEGAlf, 


the   second      The  th.VH    ™°9^'^ate  degree,  on  Eric's  part 

\     «asyawning  i„  the  fece  of  the  br  de      h/'^" '^"^^^^^^^^ 
Crystal  as  ever,  no  doubt  but  fonr^f,        ^^  "^""^  ^^  ^'^"^l  «^ 
a  dull  Breton  t^wn  are  aot  tô  hï  /     ^'  of  incessant  rain  in 
culine  niind.  ^   ^°  ^^  '7'"g  '«  ^he  frivolous  nias- 

A  "Let  us  go,  like  Hans  Pfaal,  ud  to  th^ 
on,  and  Iive  th*.r«  "  /-•  .  7  '  ^^  °  '"^ 
r  lôrH'c  K     ^  ' .  ^'■ystal  ivould  hâve 

r  lords  handsome,  bored  face   with  hl., 
leJ'ght,  put  on  herthings,  and  eone      Pn 
ïhenioon,  were  ail  aIilr<r/„  "u   ^  "^•.  .  ^^"s, 
weeks'  wife.'    Nexf  dafth^v      '  ^«'■«h.pping. 


If  Eric 
ii^oon   in 
lookedv 

or  St.  Mais, 
little   three 


a.Kl  Crystal's  troubles  be"Vr.'^%  ^^'^  ^°  ^^n- 
well.  He  drove  with  hef  in  IX^'"' u^""'  ^^^^  ^"  «^^s 
by  the  profound  admratTon  he    S  f""!'  ^.'f  ^^"''>^  ^'^kled 

everywhere  excited^'H^L^hlr 'Slhe' l"''  ^°^^''"^^* 
Tuiler.es,  to  a  bail  at  the  Enirlich  f,!.k  ^°"'""^'  ^°  ^^e 
the  Earl  of  Alben^arle''         ^        Embassy,  tô  a  dinner  at 

Jd'rcht  and  SrnoTgr'^^f  'i  ^^^  ^  ^'^  '^'  ^  slight 
Jockey  Club,  of  whicE    le^  was  a  „^'^,  ^^^  ^o  dine  at  fhe 

w.th  a  couple  of  friend^  he  4nt  l^"îhe"v  ""'l''  ^'""^'•' 
I-ehcia  in  her  new  pièce  "Th^  rr>i?  ^'^f,.  ^f  "«"es  to  see 

and  Crystal's  doom^was  'sea^ed       °'^'^"  '^"^'^•"     ««  ^«"^ 

[heir^Sf:;  r'It^r'S?^^"'  '^'^  ^-^^  ^ook 
brated  Felicia.  She  had  û^i.hJ  l  ^''^''  *^^"  ''"^  celé- 
I^ondon  before  I  canie  ut  ^u  «?êffg«"^ent  and  left 
she'scalled?"  '    "^^ '''^/^^"/i^^e  great  irrésistible 

"Ah!  wait  unti]  von  «*««»"  ««^.    r  l- 


ê 


^HOfV  THE  NEW  YËAR  BEGAN. 


"^ 


ble  raaterials  \  wot  of  of  old,  one  flash  frqin  hw  b 


/ 


H 


283 


eyes 


will  finish  you." 

Eric  laiighed.  r 

"  We  hâve  changed  ail  that,  mon  ami.  I  hâve  outlived 
niy  taste  for  black  beauties,  and  can  defy  ail  the  sorceresses 
thaï  ever  bounded  before  the  footlights." 

There  was  a  glow  at  his  heart  as  he  said  it.  A  vision  rose 
up  before  him,  of  the  pure,  sweet  face,  crowned  with  hs 
halo  of  pale  gold  hair,  that  he  had  left  at  home.  Ah  yes  { 
thèse  dark  daughters  of  tl|_eearth  had  had  theirday— he  was 
his  little  white  wife's  forever  now.  Then  the  curtain  roSe, 
and  the  "  La  Sorcière  d'Or,"  in  a  triiuaphant  biirSt  of  miisic,' 
bounded  before  thera.  The  lights  flashed  up,  a  thunder  o( 
welçome  shook  the  house,  their  favorite  was  smilingaiid  kiss- 
ing  hands  to  her  friends.  Eric  Dynely  looked  with  critical 
eyes.  Her  scant  drapery  was  as  if  woven  of  cloth  of  gold  — 
she  seemed  robed  in  a  snnburst.  Her  magnificent  black 
haïr  fell  in  a  rippling  shower  to  her  slim  waist;  clasped  back 
with  brilliants.  The  great,  ddrk  Southern  eyes  seemed  to 
outflash  the  diamonds.  Whatever  her  âge,  under  the  gas- 
lights  she  did  not  look  a  day  over  eighteen. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  Eric  said,   his  breath  fairly  taken   away  ; 
"she's  handsome,  Argyll  !  " 
Argyll  smiled, 

"Look  out  for  your  counter-charnl,  old  fellow.  The 
fair  Felicia  slays,  and  spares  not.  She  is  handsome— yes 
as  a  tigress  or  panther  is  handsome — and  as  nierciless." 

She  dancetl— it  was  the  very  poetry  of  grâce  and  motion.  \ 
She  sang— and  her  magnificent  contralto  filled  the  building. 
It  was  the  merest  trifle  of  a  play,  but  she  threw  herself  Wuh 
wonderful  abandon  and  passion  into  her  part,  carrying  her 
audience   with    her.      At  the  close,    when   the    "  Golden 
Witch  "   is  tried,  condemned,  and  found  gûilty  of  witch-  ' 
craft,   when   she  is  sentenced  to  be  bound   to   the  stake, 
when    the    sacrificial    fire    is    kindled    about    her,   when, 
with  v/ild  agony  atid  despair  in  the  beautiful,  ghastlv  face 
she  chants  her  own  weird  deaih  song,  a  silence  that  is  pain- 
ful  and  oppressive  fills   the  house.    The  mimic    flame»  ~ 


raount  high-  -the  deàth  song  dies  out  in  an  unearthly  wail  oi 


•<«:* 


XJt 
ri-? 


♦3 


JF.  l 


_ 'iîjiïiv.  - ''<«..'•'    »«  (    '( 


^ 

f 

- 

• 

■   /• 

* 

.V 

x^ 

«1 
"If    .  • 

,- 

:^^ 

- 

• 

» 

* 

•i 

%  *., 


- 

\ 

-  ■■« 

.  '' 

\ 

j.    r.   ' 

'' 

« 

\ 

\ 

, 

\ 

\ 

::A 

,*. 

• 

,     '       ' 

« 

]« 

A 

■ 

/  "          '  ^ 

' 

, 

""""^--^ 

* 

1> 

^  V- 

^^ 

r-,     '> 


V 


^ 


^.^J^ 


■l^-  *■...„ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
JEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


l.l 


l^|2^    12.5 
Kâ  làâ    12.2 

2.0 


1.8 


\IM  11114    i  1.6 


ftiotographicr 

Sciences 
Corporation 


} 


A^> 


;V 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 
WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MS80 
,  (716)  872-4503 


.\C<>      ^  ' 


284 


'>' 


^ 


^;. 


:    ^ 


.    »- 


'W. 


F  '  1*:. 


^O^  TffE  NEW,  YEAR  BEGAff 


The  "  Golden  Witcb  "  has  been 


angiûsh  as  the  curtainfalls, 
burned  alivt. 

"Best  thing  they  could  do  wîtK  her.V growls  Argyll  •  « it», 
a  thousand  pities  they  don't  trv  it  in  reali>«     -vl    ' 

serpentine  sraoothness  of  motion,  a  Tuplle  Bra«  fh^L  *■ 
ver,  panthèresqu^  ,A  shower  of  bounTets  S  fl,  nf^r^ 

sacTra;"'L!^rad^rs„tîrdoïïx''"  S' s^r'^- 

n.isS./°h:Lu*'"\°'<'  '"'°"'  ^'«"  "^'"nner  and  „o 
So  they  went,  and  the  lovelv  Felicia  ail  «m.i-»  ,  j  j    , 


% 


ffîi>niinrî,  it  buX.°:^p  ^^"^  ray  mjhewat^jîttt 


J^'.^,-5;T^    ,^.^  '-,,  V-*t  j   i'^f.'u£  >^|^  1  Sj',  4 


"      I 


0  .."'ktî^^5^ 

)*»*'^ 

f 

■  t'-     •' 

■<*: 
■--1' 

:.:^i 

BEGAIE.               285 

■          J 

:<|j 

Dynely  on  horseback,  Felicia  in  a  fairy  chariot,  diawn  . 
by  two  coal-black  Arabs,  handling  the  Unes  like  "  Four-in- 
hand  Fossbrooke  "  himself.  The  brilliant  smiles  and  glan- 
ées are  showered  on. Lord  Dynely  once  mort;  in  dazzling'- 
profusion — he  becomes  her  attendant  cavalier,  and  they  fake 
the  Bois  in  dashing  style,  the  observed  of  ail  observers.  In 
a  delicious  bonnet— a  work  of  art  in  ifself— behind  a  flimsy 
dotted  veil,  madame  still  looks  eighteen— no  raqre,  Her 
violet  velvets,  her  rich  sables,  set  oflf  her  dusk  beanfy  well  ; 
ail  eyes  foUow  her,  very  audible  French  exclamations  of  ad-- 
miration  reach  her  gratified  ears.  Hats  fly  oflf  at  her  ap- 
proach— gentlemen  innumerable  salaam  before  her,  and  the 
graceful  head  bends  like  a  queen's  to  it  ail.  Ladies  look  on 
the  other  side,  it  is  true— -but  what  will  you  !  She  is  a  dan- 
cer,  ah'd  nien  adore  her — two  unforgivable  sins  in  theireyes  ; 
a  coquette  of  the  first  water— farthcr  than  that  slander  itself 
will  not  go.  The  sheçp  dog — the  demure-faced  curate's 
Widow— occupies  the  other  side,  as  they  fly  along,  down  the 
great  wooded  drive  of  the  Bois  de  Boulogne. 

And  little  Crystal's  doom  wassealed  !  Néglect,  coldness, 
impatience — there  was  nothing  left  for  her  but  thèse.  Even- 
ing  after  evening,  upon  one  pretext  or  another,  he  was 
absent  ;  evening  after  evening  she  sat  while  the  long,  drag- 
ging,  misérable  hburs  wore  by,  and  waited,  waited,  waited,, , 
for  one  who  did  not  come.  Many  madnesses  of  this  s^^tt  - 
had  held  him  before,  but  none  so  utterly,  recklessly  mafTas 
this.  What  did  it  mean  ?  What  had  she  done  ?  She  coûld 
not  understand  the  change  in  him.  Was  Eric  growing  tired 
of  her  already  ?  The  childish  blue  eyes  would  lift  to  his  face 
in._  bewildered,  pathetic  questioning,  the  childish  lips  would 
quiver.  He  could  not  meet  those  glances,  He  avoided  her 
more  and  more — her  meek,  uncomplaining  patience  was  the 
keenest  reproach  she  could  make.  Then  the  bewildered 
questioning  died  out  of  the  eyes,  and  a  dark  despair  took  its 
place.  Even  to  her,  secluded  as  a  nun,  vague  ruraors  of  the 
tnith  came.  Eriè  l^ad  tired  of  her— another  woman  had 
caught  his  eye  and  fancy.  AU  was  over  for  her.  **  Milor's  " 
Jnfatuatipn  for  the  actresa  ^yaa  the  goasip-ef  the  venr  «er 
vants,  the  magnificcnt  présents  he  gave  her,  his  c(AtUnl 


L  j-^^ia^J  i.»AÉa>    '.«Il M^  I  O      <. 


s  •■■■ 


^86 


JSra»'  ^^^  NEW  YEAR  BEGAN. 


attendance  iipon  her;  and  in  some  way  it  ail  floated  to 
Crystal's  ears.  Her  own  maid  looked  upori  her  w  th  pity. 
ing  eyes— ail  Parig  knew  that  she  was  a  bride  forsaken  be- 
fore  the  honeymoon  had  waned.  She  uttéred  no  word  oJ 
coinplatnt— no  reproach,  only  the  color  died  out  of  her 
face,  the  light  from  her  eyes— to  her  it  was  death— her  life 
had  corne  to  an  end — ^just  that. 

She  sits  alone-  this  evening  as  usual— she  is  always  alone 
now.  She  accepts  no  invitations— she  receives  no  visitors. 
But  there  ifta  visitor  for  her  to-night;  however,  a  tall  gentle- 
man,  at  whom  Marie,  the  maid,  casts  glances  of  admiration 
as  she  announces  him.  Crystal  rises,  bewildered,  from  the 
wmdow— she  has  not^  caught  the  name.  Under  the  light  of 
the  èhandeher  her  visitor  stands,  and  a  great  cry  ôf  amaze 
and  delight  fills  the  room,  » 

"Terry  !  "  she  cries  ;  ««  oh,  Terry.i  " 
She  rushes  forward,  and  fairly  flings  her^arms  around  his 
neck.     She  is  so  «tterly  lonely,  so  homesick  and  desolate 
poor  child,  and  Terry  is  the  big  brother  wh^j^  always 
been  so  good  to  her— nothing  else.  .  w^Hf 

His  face  flushes  under  the  swift  caréss.  ThSSe  recol- 
lects  herself,  and  lets  him  go,  and  puts  backî^r  loose,  fall- 
ing  haïr  m  blushing  confusion.  '  '^        . 

"  \ it  was  so  sudden,  and  "I— I  an^  so  glad  to  see  a 

face  from  home.     Sit  down,  Terryv.i    When  did  you  corne, 
and  how  are  they  ail  ?" 

Her  fingers  lace  and  unlace  .  nervously.  Her  lips 
tremble  like  the  lips  of  a  child  about  to  cry.  She  has 
grown  nervous  and  hysterical  of  late  from  being  so  much 
alone  with  her  raisery,  and  the  sight  of  Terry  has  unnerved 
her. 

"  AU  well,"  he  answers  cheerily  ;  «  at  least  l've  not  been 
down  at  the  Vicarage,^ut  I  had  a  letterfrom  Linda  a  week 
ago.  I  told  them  I  was  going  to  crrfss  over  and  look  you 
up,  and.they  aent  no  end  of  love  and  ail  that" 

Then  there  is  a  pause— a  painful  one.  The  color 
has  faded  out  of  her  face,  and  it  looks  bluish  white  against 
the  cnmson  ydvet  back^uofLher  ^hair.    Geod  heavenst— 


thinks,  with  a  thrill  of  pain  and  aoger,  how  changld 


'mmmmm. 


r'r^. 


,-  4jr  "^  "*V  ''A.^''*  '^'■rt'^o»*-"^V*'-^'>^'/  ':J>  ^^^-^r*^"^  '''^?  "^ 


J/O/T  r^E  NEW  YEAR  BEGAN.' 


287 


she  is,  how  thin,  ho«r  worn,  how  pallid.  But  he  m%;s  no  men- 
tion  of her  looks,  he  c^nly  asks  in  a  constrained  sort  of  voice  : 
^ " Eric  is  well,  1  bôpe ?" 

"Oh,  yes,  thank  you  !" 

Her  voice  falfers  as  she  repeats  the  old  formula.  Again 
there  is  silence.  Terry  is  not  a  good  one  for  making  conver- 
sation, and  silence  is  little  Crystal's  forte. 

"Is  Eric  not  at  home?"  he  ventures  after  that  uneasy 
pause.  ,  -'  ^       ' 

"  No,"  she  answers,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  rings  she  is  un- 
consciously  twisting  round  and  round  ;   "  he  is  dining  out. 
.It— it  is  a  bachelor  party.     He  could  not  take  nie." 

"  And  what  business  lias  he  at  bachelor  parties  n<no  l  " 
rises  to  Terry's  lips,  but  he  represses  it.     She  is  going  to  say  ' 
something,  he  sees— the  sensitive  color  is  coming  and  going 
in  her  face— something  tlj^t  she  finds  hard  to  say.     It  cornes 
out  at  last  hurriedly." 

"  Terry  !  I  Wish  you  would.take  me  to  the  théâtre  to- 
night."  ' 

"Crystal!" 

"  To  the  Variétés.  I—  I  wan|  tp  go.  I  must  go  !  "  She 
lifts  h«r  eyes  to  his,  and  they  flash  for  a  moment.  "  I  hâve 
wanted  to  go  ail  this  week.     Will  you  take  me  to-night  ?  " 

He  sets  his  lips.  She  ha^  heard  then.  He  asks  no 
questions — he  makes  no  reply. 

"  Don't  refuse  me,  Terry,"  she  pleads,  and  the  sweet  )ips 
tremble.  "  You  never  did  refuse  me  anything— don't  be- 
gin  now.  I  want  to  go— oh,  so  much  !  I  want  to  sec— 
that  woman."  ^ 

The  wifely  hatred  and  jealousy  she  feels  for  "  that  woman  " 
are  m  tTie  bitterness  with  which  she  pronounces  the  two 
words.  It  is  hard  to  refuse  her— but  Terry  sits  silent  und 
Iroubled  still. 

"  I  would  do  4iîything  for  y<iu,  Crystal,"  he  says  at 
iength;   "  but  this—is  this  best  ?  " 

"I  want  to  go— I  wiû  go,"  she  says,  passionately,  turning 
away.    "I  did  not  think  you  wogld  refuse,  Terry  Denni- 


L'i>4a*f... 


"I  hâve  not  refused,  Crystal^'»  he  answers  gently.    «Ol 


s  it>iaià)pJE£>4iriL*iiftg^g£j'- 


■«fî 


388  ^O»'  TffE  NEW   YEAlt  BEGAff. 


course  I^ill 
s  pie 


p.         .   w       take  you',  with  pleasure,   since  yo'.  wish   't 

She  gives  hi.n  a  grateful  glance.  j 

aoftij''"   were  ahvays  good   to   me,  ^ï^  she  repeats 

anfstaiSrrfi  '""'ï'"'  '^i^  aid  of  hérmaid-dresses  hurriedly, 
and  stands  al  ready  as  Dennison reappears.  ^' 

^  voice  "bf^vf^  '  ^^f^I^r^Jy'"  he  says  in  his  cheery 
and  I  Von^  g^)^t  good  luck  there  was  one  unoccupied  box. 
and  1  got  IL     Our  fiacre  is  at  the  door." 

sne   is   trembhng   with   nervous   éxcitenient.  he  can   feel 
cha'r^edîr;.^"/'"  u'^^"^'^"''  "'^'^^^  actress,7ho  has 

He  mav  bê  anS^  ^  "r^  "^"^"'^  '«  ^^''^  ^er  anywhere. 
ne  niay  be  angfj^  when  he  hears  of  this--she  has  no  inr^n 

m  st.    She  muât  look  upon  the  face  fair  enough  to  take  the 
bndegroom  from  h.s  bride  before  the  honeyS;,on  L  at  an 

audience  by  her  passionate  power.        ^      eiectntymg  the 

desD^r*^  Iv»""'  K  '  ^^\  ^""^  ï*""'  ''^'^'  «»*=»^  at  heart,  sick  with 
despair.     \  es,  she  is  beauliful— terribly,  brilliantlv  beautifu 

v^rStr?^'  ^*^'"°r^"y  «>-autifuI,  it'^eem    to  Lr     S^^^ 
voice  rs  hke  silver,  her  eyes  like  dusk  stars  :   and  Er  c  wor 
sh.ps  beauty  m  ail  things,and  this  woman-th^°Ts  he  rh^^[ 

She  turoft  away  in^sick.  mute  despair  as  the^ar^S 

^Warpo^erTiâs  she  to  hold  him^nst  a  g^n^SÏL^'  ~ 


1*  itii  t. 


^■': 


.V  «/.>-'il«^ 


,,,W^ii  iji^.ç.  "'^'^ii^^^^^^^ïp^^v-  --f.  {.y^^i^ 


ffOW  THE  NEW  VEAR  BEGAN.- 


289 


tress  like  this.  At  that  moment  a  party  of  gentlemen  enter 
the  box  opposite;  she  gives  a  quick  gasping  cry— one  of 
Iheni  is  her  husband. 

He  bas  been  dining  and  wining  evide'ntly.  His  fair,  girl's 
oomplexion  is  flushed— his  blue  eyes  glitter  wilh  passionate 
excitenient.  If^  leans  back  and  sweeps  the  house  with  his 
glass—she  shnnks  tiembHngly  farther  from  sight.  Terry,  too 
draws  back— Terry,  whbse  face  wears  a  look  CrysUl  has 
never  seen  it  wear  before. 

The   curtain    rises  on    the   second  act.     Lord  DyneVs 
double-barrels  turn  from  the  people  to  the  players.     She  \% 
on  the  stage  once -more— his  opéra  glass  devours  her.     He 
lies  back  and  stares  immovably  ail  through  the  act.     When  at 
."•''j?°f!  '°^^  Plandits  ring  through  thç  house,  his  primrose: 
kidded  hands  applaud  to  the  écho.  She  cornes— floral  showers, 
as  usual,  ram  upon  her.     Çrystal  does  not  look  at  her  now 
,— her  fascmated  eyes  areliveted  upon  her  husband.     She 
sees  him   lean   forward,   a   smile   on   his   handsome    face 
— sees  hun  take  a  httle  bouquet  of  fairy  roses  and  gçranium 
leaves  from  his  button-hole  and  fling  it  to  the  actress      Cry- 
stal  gives   a    little  gasping    cry  of    sheer  physical   pain. 
^he  forraed    that  httle    bouquet— j>4^  pinned  it  into  his 
button-hole  as  she  kissed  him  good-by  four  hours  ago.    And 
now  the  actress  lifts  it— lifts  it  from  amid  hosts  of  others 
presses  it  to  her  lips— flashes  one  lightning  glance  at  the  fair! 
haired  Enghshman  in  the  box  above,  and  disappears. 

"You  stand  well  with  the  Felicia,  Dynely,"  one  6î  the' 
party,  a  compatnot  of  Eric's,  say;;,  with  a  loud  laugh.  "She 
sélects  your  bouquet  from  ail  that  pyramid.  tucky  beegar  î 
We  poor  devils  stand  no  chance  against  such  a  curled  dar- 
Img  of  the  gods." 

The  third  act  finishes—the  golden  witch  dies  at  the  stake. 
singing  her  wondrdhs  funeral  song.     The  play  is  over. 

«•  And  rd  like  to  be  the  one  to  fire  the  fagots,  by  —  "  Terrv 
gnnds  out  between  his  set  teeth.  Then  he  leans  over  and 
speaks  to  his  companion.  "Are  you  tired,  Crystal?  You 
look  pale,"  he  says— so  gently  he  saysit 


^> 


She  18  mofë  than  pale  ;  her  véfy  lîps  are  colôrlëss  rBiit" 
18 


iàM' 


r^t  "i'f.^if 


'4.4*  1  ïiir  . 


li.  •' 


^^^ 


"  ( 


1i  -t^T»** 

t  r 


f  V  \J:'  4^:jkV>  i?r-^'^At«':^^'^l|fç-^ 


290 


^OW^  TIf£  ATSfy  YEAR  BEGAI/. 


«he  lifts  her  grateful,  hôpekss  eyes,  and  repeats   the  pld 
foolish  formula  :  y 

"  Oh,  no,  thank  yqu/'      *-       •  *. 

"The  •  Golden  Wi'tch'  is  finished.  Thére  is  a  grand  new 
balletr— do  you  care  to  wait  to  see  it  ?  "  he  asks  again. 

"I  will  wait,  Terry,  if  you  please." 

She  does  not  care  for  the  ballet  ;  she  will  net  see  it  at  ail, 
very  likely  ;  but  Eric  is  yonder— her  Eric— her  husband— 
and  whilè  she  can  sit  and  watch  him,  this  place  is  better 
than  any  other  in  Paris. 

Çut  presently  Eric  gets  up,  leaves  his  box,  and  goes  awây. 
Thi^e  is  rather  a  long  inlerval  before  the  ballet.  People 
chat,  flirt,  laugh,  dispuss  the  play  and  Felicia,  and  presently 
there  is  a  stir,  and  a  bustle  anô  a  sensation  amid  theni  ail. 

Every  glass  in  the  house  turns  to  one  box  as  the  cur- 
tain  rises  and  the  new  ballet  begins.  Terry  and  Crystal 
look,  too.  "^ 

In  that  stage-box  the  star  pf  the  night  sits.  Madame 
Felicia,  in  elçgant  fuU  dress,  ablaze  with  diamonds,  lies  back 
m  her  chair,  wjelding  a  fan  with  the  grâce  of  a  Castilian 
donna,  and  listening,  with  a  smile  on  her  perfect  lips,  to  the 
whispered  wprds  of  the  man  who  bends  over  her.  He  stoops 
so  low  that  his  blonde  hair  mingles  with  her  jetty  tresses.  The 
little  knot  of  fairy  roses  nestle  in  thèse  ebon  locks  ;  and 
the  tall  cavalier  who  bends  so  closely,  so  devotedlv.  ia 
Eric,  Lôrd  Dynely  ^ 

Crystal  can  bear  no,  more.  With  a  great  «ob,  she  turns  to 
Dennison,  and  holds  out  her  hands. 

"Oh,  Terry,"  the  poor  child  says,  "  take  me  home  !  " 

He  does  not  speak  a  word.  He  rises,  wraps  her  cloak 
around  her,  draws  her  hand  within  his  arm,  and  leads  her 
out  of  the  théâtre.  In  the  fiacre  she  falls  back  in  a  corner 
and  hides  her  face  from  the  pitiless  glare  of  the  streets.  No 
word  is  spoken  ail  the  way— what  is  to  be  said  ?  Both  know  ' 
the  worst. 

He  conducts  her  to  her  own  door,  still  dead  silent.    There 

be  pauses,  takes  both  her  hands  and  kolds  them  in  his  strong, 

_finepdly  clasp,  while  he  look;  down  in  the  droouin&  hra^ 

ra^otenface.     "  '*■  "  '*" 


'f^ 


i£, 


L***'l'^<i*AL^r-« 


UOW  THR  NEWi  YEAR  SE  G  AN. 


291 


"Keep  up  heart,  little  tirystal,"  he  says;  "l'ilfetch  Eric 
home  m  an  hour." 

She  lays  her  cold  cheek  down  for  a  second  on  the  warm. 
tnie  han^s. 

"  Dear  old  Terry  !  "  she  says,  softly.     Then  he  lets  her  jro, 
and  the  velvet-hung  door  closes  behind  her. 


ï    ■ 


'  ^ii 


■* 


^  ^^ 


,^W^'  f 


^j..^. 


"^a 

■d"- 

ei 


''^i^-ilf|Lt'r.''V"'^'' 


♦ 
< 


CHAPTER  II. 

*'LA  BELLE  DAME  SANS  MERa." 

ned— and  he  has  wearied  of  her  alreadv— a 
newer,  môre  briUiant  beauty  has  won  him  fron, 
ner.  reny  has  known  it  would  corne— 
known  it  from  the  first,  but  not  so  soon-good  Hel^ 
ven  I  not  so  soon.     Hp  takes  his  way  into  the  sîreet  ihJ 

Deing  burmng  in  his  heart  against  Eric  Dynely.     How  she 
has  changed-what  a  pale  shadow  of  the  lovelv  hanov  face 
she  took  to  the  altar  last  New  Yeai^s  day     wL  a   p^tiJul 
crushed,  heart-brolcen   look  the  sweet,  child^h  eyesCa  ' 

Enc  had  never  corne  between  them,  how  happy  he  could 
hâve  made  her  1  He  would  hâve  made  her  life  L  blessed 
'  she  would  hâve  been  ail  hisown  in  time.  beyond  the  powS 
of  any  man  to  corne  between  them.  With  l  sort  of  ^oan 
he  breaks  off.  His  she  is  not,  his  she  can  never  be  Eric 
must  ret^urn  to  her  or  she  wUl  die-the  whole  ston^  is'told"n 

teX  ^:îrf  s:;^  ^::i^^^^  -^-s  ^is 

He  does  not  pause  a  moment— he  hurries  at  once  to  the 

«rforth  h^*;'  ^'"?  ''  ^"*  J"^'  ended-the-peo,Je'4Vur 
ng  forth,  but  nowhere  among  them  does  he  see  Eric    At 

^ngth  ,n  the  crowd  he  espies  a  man  he  knows,  one  of  the  four 

who  first  entered  with  him  he  îs  seeking.  and  farmïtesiS 

way  to  hjm  and  tops  him  famUiarly  on  tL  shoulder 

Boville,  old  boyVV  h^^ 

cmtgreetmg,  "hoWareyou?"  ^^^^ 


M 


■=ri:-%:* 


•  •  r 


^f 


**ZA  BELLE  DAME  SANS  JlfEÉCI." 


293 


Mr.  Boville  looks  over  his  shoulder  and  opens  two  sinàll, 
sleepy-looking  eyes. 

"What,  Dennisonl  what^Terry!  you  herej  thoiight  you 
were  at  Aldershot.     Awfully  glad  to  see^you  ail  ihe  same  " 

"  l'in  looking  for  Eric,"  Terry  responds,  plunging  at  once 
mto  his  subject.  "  He  came  in  with  you.  WKere  is  he 
now?"  ^  ■ 

"Yes,  he  came  in  with  me,"  Boville  says,  with  a  faint, 
weary  little  laugh.  "  Where  is  he  now  ?  '  în  much  pleasanter 
Company,  dear  boy— driving  home  with  Madame  Felicia. 
Intoxicatmg  créature  that— eh,  Terry  ?  And  weally,  oh  my 
Word,  you  know,"  lisps  Mr.  Boville,  raising  his  white  eye- 
brows,  "  Dynely  is  altogether  the  spooniest  fellow  I  " 

"Where  does  Madame  Felicia  iive?"  Terry  growls,  with 
a  flash  of  his  eye,  cutting  Mr.  Boville's  drawl  suddenly  short. 

The  slow,  sleepy  eyes  open  again.  Mr.  Boville  looks  at 
Mr.  Dennison  with  a  curious  Utile  half  smile.  "Eut  fie  gives 
Madame  Felicia's  address  readily  enoùgh,  and  watches  the 
hig  dragoon  out  of  sight  with  a  shrug; 

"  Is  Eric  to  be  brought  to  his  sensés,  and  is  Terry  deputed 
to  do  it,  I  wonder?"  he  thinks.  "If  so,  then  Terry  has 
quue  the  most  difficult  task  béfore  him  that  heavy  dragoon 
was  ever  called  upon  to  ^' 

Yes,  Terry^was  going^^rfng  him  to  his  sensés— going  to  . 
bnng  him  to  his  wife  ;  àll'without  sy*omenf  s  hésitation,  he 
hails  a  fiacre,  giyes  the  address,  and  il  whirled  away  through 
the  noonday  gaslit  brilliance  of  the  boulevards. 
_  "There's  to  be  a  supper,  no  doubt,"  he  thinks.  "  Is  not 
Fehcia  famous  whferever  she  goes  for  her  after-theatre  sup- 
pers?  Well,  fortune  stands  my  friend  this  time— I  hold  the 
open  sésame  to  htfr  doors,  and  though  I  hâve  never  availed 
,  myself  of  h  before,  by  Jove  !  I  will  tonight." 

His  mind  goes  back  to  a  certain  day  two  years  before, 
when^hç  had  in  ail  probabilily  saved  Madame  Felicia's  l},fe, 
or  at  least  what  was  ctf  equa^  account  to  her,  her  beauty,  It 
^s  the  ôld  story  of  ninaway  horses— the  lady  r^scued  m  ' 
the  nick  of  time.  Madaiiie'r  passion  for  spirited  ponies  had, 
4)0  more  ^occasions  than  one,  placed  lier  prettynect  ant^ 
graceful  lii»bs  in  jeopardy— on  this  occasion  the  runawayi 


r 


m 


I , 


'»^ 


'l 


'-m^- 


•  ►■:. 


294       -    "-^  BELLE  DAt^E  SANS  MERCir 

had  become -altogether  unmanageable,  Ihe  reios  hâd  beei^ 
jerked  from  her  hatids,  and  with  heads  up  and  eyes  flashing 
thev  had  rtished  madly  along.  '■  The  gâtes  bf  a  gréât  park 
,    ended  the  road— if  those  gâtes  were  open  ji^adame  still  stood 
one  chance,  if  they  were  closed—she  shuddered,  intrenid 
httle  Amazon  as  she  iSras,  and  sat  still  as  death^and  white  as 
raarble,  straining  her  eyes  through  the  whirlwihd  of\dust  as  "*' 
theyflew  along.    The  gark  camf!  in  sight-^the  gâtés  were 
^lûsgj/    It  was  just  at  tfet  çiomenl/rerry  «Deni^sàn,  on 
horseback,  came  m  view.    He  toote^  the  situation  \in  an 
instant.    To  a  tempt  to  check  the  horses  in  their  mad  ckreer 
^ould  hâve  been  useless  now  ;  they  wojild  wrench  hî»  àrms 
from  the  sockets  bfcfofe  they  could  be  stopped.     fle^al- 
loped  up^hurled  himself  off  his  horse.and  with  the  agillty 
of  a  circus  rider  and  the  strength  of  a  latter^lay  Samsob, 
lifted  the  lady  sheer  out  of  the  carriage.    The  horses  weiit 
headlong  at  the  closed  gâtes,  shivering  the  frail  phaeton  tO\ 
atoras,  and  Madame  Felicia  fainted  quietly  away  in  Lieu-^ 
tenant  Dennison's  amis.    -         ♦ 
That  was  the  story.     Terry  never  made  capital  of  it,  but 
,  the  actress  di{|.     She  was  profoundly  and  greatly  grateful,- 
and  to  show  that  gratitude,  made  every  possi^e  effort  tb  cap- 
tivate  her  préserver  and  break  his  heart.     For  bhce  she  failed. 
Mr.  Dennison  was  invulnérable.     Ail  lier  cajoleries,  ail  her 
fascinations,  ail  her  beatrty  and  cÂic,  fell  powerl^s  on  this 
big  dragoon  s  dtill  sensibilities.     He  saw  through  her  and 
laughed  at  her  quietly  irfhis  sleevé.     What, the  deufce  did  the 
lutle,  gushing  dancer  mean  makiïig  eyes  at  him?  Terry  won- 
derçd.  ^He  wasn't  an  elder  son,-  he  didh't  keep  an  optn 
account  at  Hunt  Se  Roskell's;  hehad  neVer  given  any  one  a 
diaraond  bracelet  in  his  life.  .  She  knew  it  too— then  what  did 
she  mean  ?    It  was  madaine's  way  of  showing  her  deep  grati- 
tudq  to  the  préserver  of  her  life—sjmply  that.    But  for  Terry 
she  would  hâve  been  sraashed  to  atoms  with  the  phaeton, 
toerbeautyruined,  her  symmetrioal  limbsbri»ken,  her  (occupa- 
tion gone.    She  shuddered. when  she  thought  of  i^;  death 
woul(j^ave  been  préférable  to  that     Shë  was  îrateful,  deobly 
wid  truly  grateful,  and  gave  Mr.  Dennison  carte  blanche  to 
«ome and goas  he-pleascd-froifrl^encefortlf forevërr  If  wâr" 


># 


J  V'' 


******?as**!?5»i^Ete:s 


Ù^h-   ,-'        MjmiT', 


c 


1  ' 


•*I.A  BELLE  DAME  SANS  MERCI." 


295 


a  privilège  for  whîch  royalty  itself  was  sighing  just  then,  \n\\~ 
with  the  dull  ihsens^jjility  that  had  alway«  characteriaed  hirh^ 
in^thespahings,  Dennison  tre^ted  it  and  her  with  the  calmest, 
uttereât  indifférence.  ^Jle,  liked  her  as  a  dancer,  but  a^  a 
woman,  and  in  privatriife,  not  any,  thahks.    Terry  did  not 
go   in  for  dancers.      In  short  kr.  Dennison  woiild.  noi  be 
numbefed  amo%  her  victims,  would  not  lose  Kîsnead  for 
her;  and   madame   saw  and  laughed  good-naturedty,   and 
gave  it  up  and  respected  him  accordingly.     It  would  be  a  • 
refreshing  novelty  to  have^a  masculine  fnend,  a  friend  pure 
and  simple,  who  would  never  be  a  lover,  and  so  she  liked  * 
Dennison  as  honestly,  as  a  more  honest  woman  might,  and. 
still  k«pt  her  doors  open  to  him.     Hé  came   at   timçs  ,tor, 
those   pleasant,   p«st-oifera   suppers,    where    tfie   cleveresl 
paihters,  the^  most  distinguishèd  novelists,  the 'handsomest 
actresses  in  London  were  to  hëS  met,  and  was  ever  #armly 
welcoraed.  :^  '         \ 

He  had  known  she^lfas  inj  Paris-- he  had  not  met  her  for 
seven  months,  but  he  had  not  had''the  faintest  thtention  of  call- 
iôg  upoij  her  hère.  And  nowhe  was  whirling  along  rapidly  . 
to  her  romns.  Of  his  welcome  from  her,  at  ail  times  and  in 
ail  place^  he  wifis  sure  ;  his  welcome  from  Erk:  w^  much 
more  to  thfr  point  just  at  présent  ;  and  of  .that  he  was  not 
at  ail  sure. 

"  Hang  her  1  "     Terry  thought,  with  an  inward  growl  ;  . 
"^'  ha^g  ail  such  confounded  little  pirates,  cruising  in  honest 
watets,  and  raising  the  devil  whpf èver  they  go.     Still  if  on? 
goes  thére  at  ail,  une  must  be  civil,  I  supppse.^  " 

Civil  accordingly,'  MK  DenhisQfi  was  when  ushered  info 
the  gem-like  drawing-room  jof  •^Madame  Felicia^ 

A  chandelier,  blazing^  like  a  <mimic  sun  in  the  frescoed 
ceiling.  raadethe  room  one  shèet  of  golden  light.  The  walls 
weré  lined  with  mirrôrs,  the  windows  hung  with  satin  and 
lace,  th^è  air  heavy;^ith  pastilles.  Half-a-dozen  elegântly 
dr^ssed  and  exceptionally  .handsQoaie-  womeo  reclined  , 
in  evejy^  specieff  of  easy-chair,  with  attendant  cavaliers. 
pn  a  low  fauteuil  reclined  the  grcat  Felicja  herself,  robcd 
!  I*  «i .  uuujwy  ciouQ  oi'  iranstucenr  wnlwt  as  a  rate  SlWr 
affected  costly  moires,  stiff  brocades,  heavy  velvets  j  to-night, 


.«^s' 


y 


f^ 


y. 


296  "^^.^^LlE  DA3fE  SAjfS  MEIfCin 

'  opals  glittered  about  Z  and  n.f '"'  ?'"™*>"^^  -"<! 
roses  nestled  in  the  deaH  w.  ^  F^'^'  perfumy,  yellow 
her  side.  LorJ  Dynelv  ït  "!  ^'?"''"^l^  of  her  hain     By 

enough.     Ail  starteS-'and  starS'â?  L     ''""^'^  "^^^^  g^^e 

t^p:^i!^  s',%"i€i^L^ -?-r^.î 

m  season  and  out  of  seSon  •'  P^^ission  to  visit  you 

ouPhTha^d  XteVi^^^^^^^^^^^^^^         ^P-Hfc  the  speaker, 
serpents  one  must  be  subtie     Th.  ;.ii      l?  ^"^  ^«^'«  «^^h 

and  held  out  Lr  hand!    She  was  corS  '  f  "  ^l'^  ^«-^«^ 
lerry.  ^^^  *^<^™'ally  pleased  to  see 

"  Mr.  Dennison  knonr<:  h*.  ;=  oi 

blu;.'ï;'Si^7»„^™^iJ°"  '"  Pans,  De„„i«,„,..  h. 
"  To  niffhL  "»cu  aia  you  corne  ? 

DeHj,h.edVsen;/trhe'',r„.^î^k"?î.  "^^  "^  "^  ^"^ 
turninï  to  madame.  >=  "oi  look  ?     Terry  say»  gaylv, 

«ôwL  "'  ''°"  ='°PP'"«'"     Eric  ^  ,ai  wi.h  a 

;  li4°""  ""  '^""«  '^">  ™y  P-fohag.  on  ,hirocc«io«. 
Then  there  is  a  Dau<w>     Tk«  *_  , 

icTci,  searching   glance-angry  and  sus   ' 


tay 


■§îk«h. 


■^^sii* 


»M 


-Ic.lJ     J<S 


"LA  BELLE  DAME  SANS  MERCL" 


297 


picious  oif  Eric's  part — stem  and  resplved  on  Terry's.  Eric 
is  the  first  to  turn  away,  with  a  shrug,  and  a  slight  contemp- 
luous  laugh.  "*■:„<..  * 

"  John  Bull  is  ubiquitous  !  Ga  where  you  will  he  crops 
up  when  you  least  expect  hira.  It  is  one  bf  the  great  draw- 
backs  of  our  civilization."        - 

"  Was  monsieur  at  the  Vafiétè^Bmight  ?  ''  madame  asks, 
coquettishly.  She  is  not  French,TK  she  aflfects  the^rench 
Lmguage  as  she  aflfects  '  French  cookery,  French  toilettes, 
and  French  morals. 

'*  I  hâve  had  that  pleasure,"  Terry  responds.  «'  Madame 
îs  irrésistible  in  ail  things,  but  she  out-does  herself  m  *  La 
Sorcière  (f- Or.'  Shall  we  see  you  in  it  at  the  Bijou  next 
Lbndon  seasoti ?" 

Felicialâtfghs^'oftly.  and  glances  up  from  under  lier  black 
lashes  at  Lord  Dynely's  gloomy  face. 

"  Ah — who  knows  ?  Next  London  season-^it  begirts  in  a 
iiîonth  or  two,  does  it  not  ?  but  who  knows  what  may  hap- 
pen  in  a  month  or  two?  One  may  be  a  thousand  miles 
away  from  your  bleak  fogs,  and  easterly  winds,  and  dull 
phlegniatic  stalls  by  that  time.  Mon  ami,  how  sulky  you 
look,"  striking  Dynely  a  blow  with  her  perfumed  fan.  "  As 
you  say  in  your  country-^-a  penny  for  yoiir^thoughts." 

"They  are  worth  much  more — I  was  tliinking  oï you"  he 
answers  rather  bitterly. 

"  Lord  Dynely  does  me  too  much  honor.  Judging  by  his 
tone  they  must  be  pleasant.     May  I  ask  what  ?  " 

"  I  was  wondering  if  there  will  be  any  Madame  Felicia  to 
enchant  lh«  sleepy  British  stalls  of  the  Bijou  next  season.  I 
was  wondertng  if  by  that  time  it  will  not  be  Her  Excellency, 
Madame  Là  Princesse  Di  Venturini." 

She  laughs  a  second  time.  His  angry,  jealous  tone,  which 
he  cannot  conceal  if  he  would,  amuses  her  vastly. 

"  Who  knows? "  is  her  airy  answer  ;  "  such  droll  things 
happen  !  1  ara  not  sure,  though,  that  it  would  be  half  so 
pleasant  They  are  announcing  supper.  Mr.  Dennison, 
win  you  give  nae  your  arm  ?  Lord  Dynely,  the  most  de- 
lightful  bf  hien,  the  most  gallant  of  gentlemen  on  ordinary 
occasions,  yet  falls  a  prey  at  times  to  what  1  once  heard  a 
18* 


^h^ 


*f  7^-^'  ■-     ,   ( 


i-is',.-' 


■■V  v  ^  .  ^ 


<- 
?  "r^-. 


^^^  •^^J?tJ^#_feî%'|f4î^^t.a| 


298 


"LA  BELLE  DAME  SANS  MERCI» 


And  I  cannot  endure 


countryman  of  his  call  tke  doldrum 
people  who  hâve  the  doldrums  !  " 

been  known  to  swear  at  tinies.  But  she  laughs  welîiTis 
Xn  mT'i  '""^"^  points-languidly.  sweTt/and  vei 
often.     What  her  nationality  is  no  one  seems  exactlv  2^ 

•mr-sheistf  %^'^-^-F--h.  Italian.l^aSTèer 
man  she  is  not  There  are  people  who  hint  at  Yankee  ex 
traction  ;  but  this  madame  herself  dénies,  furiouslv  and  an 
gnly  dénies.  She  bas  never  crossed  the  Âtknt "c  n  her  iffe 
and  never.  never  ^\\\r  She  hâtes  America.  The  azv  touaz 
eyes  flash  a's  she  sayà  it.     She  will  never  play  in  AmSicTL 

The  ruby  velvet  portières  were  drawn  aside,  and  thevfiled 
nbytwosinto  the  adjoining  dining-room.  Hère  too  ihe 
light  was  vivid  as  noonday,  and  beneath  the  mTmic  sun  of 
gasa  table  ghttered  that  was  a  vision.  Tall  enTrgnes  «f 
frosted  silver,  fiUed  with  rarest  hot-house  flower^s  Eer 
glasses  of  waxy  camelliasfrom  the  greenery  of  a  dTke  rtr..? 
costhest  grapes,  peaches  and  peass  ^  ^'  '^'^''\ 

Thel-e  was  a  brief  pause  in  the  gay  hum  of  conversation 
as  they  sat  down.  Felicia's  cook  was  a  cLfc^ï^l. 
water^his  works  of  art  were  best  a^preciat^  by  Slenc?  ' 
*or  her  wmes— was  not  everv  famoiis  c^\Ur  ,n  p  •  ,  •  j 
under  contribution  ?  nothing'  finrwer'ïo'b'm'^'^t  uîe 
table«f  impenal  royalty  itself.  Presently,  however  the  fi^^ 
lu  passed,  gay  conversation,  subdued  laïghter,  wluy  sallies  i 
bnlhant  repartees  flashed  to  and  fro.     Perhaurof  alî    S 

S:s  TsTLn'rs^'  ^'^  •^-^^  Srif leir^ 

t-iever.     as  a  dancer  she  was  not  to  be  suniaMeH—ao  , 
uonaiist,  she  was  nowhere.    She  ate  her  délicat*,   c/r/»;, 

«The  t^vlT"  ^^^•"**  ^"'  ^p^^'^""^  sX  ii^gtdl'r; 

at  the  gay  sallies  gomg  on  around  her,  and  watched  Lord 
^l'JtV  T^"""^  "^'^  f  mocking^mileTn  S?ti^g, 


ii^.fflK^*»*''i«*i.»  ' 


'•'ih 


P  -''  rs  '^ 


4       -*'  l    *        t 


••Z^  BELLE  DAME  SANS  AfESCV* 


299 


hrely  silent  through  ail  the  bright  badinage  going  on  around 
hira,  his.brows  bent  moodily,  drinking  much  more  than  he 
ate— a  sort  of  "  marble  guest''  araid  the  lights,  the  langhter 
the  feasting  and  the^owers. 

Terr/s  sudden  coming  had  completely  upset  him.  Sotne 
thing  in  Terry's  eyés  roused  him  angrily  and  aggressively. 
Wliat  business  had  (he  fèllow  hère  ?  VVhat  business  in  Paris 
at  ail?  Through  Ihe  unholy  glitter,  his  wife's  face  rose  be- 
fore  him  as  he  had  left  her  hours  ago,  pale,  patient,  pathetic. 
Thè  tiny  knot  of  roses  she  had  given  him  gleamed  still  amid 
the  blackness  of  Felicia's  hair— Felicia,  who,  lying  back,  eat- 
mg  an  apricot,  seemed  wholly  engrossed  by  her  conver- 
sation with  Dennison.  The  broad  band  of.gold  and  dia- 
monds  on  her  perfect  arm  blazed  in  the  light*  Only  yester- 
day  he  had  given  it  to  her,  and  now  she  had  neither  eyes 
nor  ears  for  any  one  but  this  overgrown,  malapropos  dra- 
goon, 

"  Mon  ami;'  Felicia  said  to  him,  with  a  malicious  laugh, 
as  they  arose  to  return  to  the  drawing-room,  "  you  remind 
one  of  the  tête  de  mort  of  the  Egyptians— wasn't  it  the 
Egyptians  who  always  had  a  death's  head  at  their  feasts  as 
a  sort  of  mémento  mori  ;— and  the  rôle  of  death's-head  does 
not  become  blonde  men.  For  a  gentleman  whose  honey- 
moon  has  not  well  ended,  that  face  speaks  but  illy  of  post- 
nuptiàl  joys." 

"Ah,  let  l)im  alone,  madame!"  cried  Ceci!  Rossart,  a 
tall,  pretty,  English  singer,  with  a  rippling  laugh.  "You 
know  what  the  poet  says— what  Byron  says  : 

"  '  For  thinking  of  an  absent  wife 
Will  blanch  a  faithful  cheek.*  " 

His  lordship  is  thinking  of  the  lecture  her  ladyship  will 
read  him  when  he  returns  home." 

"If  late  hours  involve  curtain  lectures,"  cried- Adèle  Des- 
barats,  shrilly,"then,  ma  foi/  milorshould  be  well  used  to 
.«em  by  tbis.^  To^^  oertain  knowledge,  be  h»s  not  been 
home  before  three  in  the  nweoing  for  the  last  two  weeks." 

♦♦Let  us  hope  my  Ia<£pâiuses  herself  weU  in  his  ab 


mil"- 


^4 


,.     ,      . ..^      ^mt:       ,  "^       •H.^i^K*!,    J,.3     ,„„„„.„ 


M 

i' 


lu»'  * 


■'i 


JOO  "Z.4  i?^2z^  Z>^;»fff  SAATS  MERCiy 

sencer    exclaimed    Miss   Rossart,  flinging  herself  into  a 
Louis  Quatorze  fauteuil,  and  roUing  up  a  cigfrette  with  whL 
^      shm  fingers-"no  difficuUjhing  in^u^r  belfved  Pari^        ' 
iinc  glanced  from  one  to  fhe  other  at'each  ill-timed  iest 

dlrkened  ?o?  .^"h  J  '^^  ï"'^  .^^«^-      ^--'-"'^  ^^^e 
aarkened,  too,  so  suddenly  and  ominously.that  Felicia.  not 
without  tact,  saw  t  and  changed  the  subject  at  oncf^ 
.     bmg  for  us,  Adèle,"  she  cried  imperiously,  lying  hixu- 
nnft  ''ï''  '"  ''"'■  ^^",°"^^  dormeuse.     ''Mr.  DenSn  hàs 
£"ats::,'/r^^;-     "^^^  ^°"  '^-^^  Mademoiselle   nt 
"I  hâve  not  had  that  pleasure,  madame.'' 
Ihe    vivacious  little  brunette  went  over  at  once  to  the 
open  p.ano,  and  began\o  sing.     The  others  dspeîsed  Lm! 
?!./   «"'n''-   ^".^  P^^y  ^^^'q»«-     Madame's  rooms  we?e 

the  pian^,  a  deep,  angry  flush,  partly  of  wine,  parti/ of  jeal- 
oisy,  partly  of  rage  at  Dennison,  partly  of  a  vague  rembrse- 
fui  anger  at  h.mself.  fiUed  him.  For  Terry,  madaméc  ea' ed 
away  her  biUowy  tulle  and  laces,  and  madIVoom  or  W  be- 
side  her,  with  her  own  enchanting  smile.  ' 

whirrfK"^'^'^'^.  ^^°^^  ^'^^  piano -ihimediately  opposite 
llht  f.  r'^  f  ^  ^  P^"'"''"  "^""S'  '"^^  broad  yelW  g  T  of 
hght  falhng  fu  1  upon  .t.  It  was  the  picture  that  had  (f  J- 
ed  ^^he  furore  last  May  m  the  Academy.     -  Hovr  the  âijît 

"  J.have  always  had  a  fancy,  madame,"  Terrv  said  doul 
mg  h.s  hand  arjd  lookinç  th^iugh  it  at  'the  pa^fng,'  ^°hat^ 
thewomanin  that  picture  1s  excessively  like  you.     î  kvÈr 

mav^'stiinL'lÏÏ'  ^"^'^Pr'-"  --  tLt_/trust  I  Prve 
may ,  still  the  hkeness  is  there— and  a  very  strong  ont  too 
Do  you^not  see  it  yourself  ?  "  ^         ^      X 

sxnîlï.^^'  ^  ^^^'*'"  "^^"^  answered,  with  a  slow,  sleepy 
vou^^'î  ^fv  toO'.fo'-I^ocksley-Caryll  I  mean-never  sàw 
gomg  It  seeaied  and  never  went  near  the  Bijou."  '5 

-«ycs,  as  mey  tued  themsélves  dfeamily  on  the  picture.^^ 


\-' 


,  \ 


••fife.- 


^^Î^'ÎéI^ï!*'"-* 


.c.-lf^V'"."'/^''  ,r^KÏ.;  i^*'*',-ic .  - 


,-,  •%**>**.',.*&*?; 


Fè"îssp-":^:^'^«j 


-'il  4» 


i^ViW-  ^  fe^'^c^r"" 


^-'J^f'T  - 


f 


«Z.4  BELLE  DAME  SANS  MERCI» 


301 


"He  never  went  to  the  Bijou— never,  saw  me  there? 
You  are  sure  of  that ?" 

"  Quite  sure.    Told  me  so  himself."  '     ! 
.  "Ah  !  well,  his  dislike  for  théâtres  and  actresses  is  natu- 
i-al  enough,  I  suppose,  considering  his  past  unUicky  expéri- 
ence.   Quite  a  roiçance  that  story  of  his:  is  it  not?     Is 
shealivestill?"  - 

rrn^^'"  ^^"^  answered  gravely,  «dead  for  many  years. 
KiUed  m  a  railway  accident  in  Canada,  âges        "* 

The  sleepy  smile  has  spread  to  madameMîps.  She  flut- 
ters  her  fan  of  pearl  and  marabout  wit»  slim  jewelled  An- 
gers. 7 

"  Mr.  Locksiey— I  mean  Caryll— j*k)mised  me  acompàn- 
lon  picture  to  this.  I  suppose  I/fiay  give  up  ail  hope  of 
that  now.  I  really  should  like/6  raake  his  acquaintance  • 
I  hâve  aweakness  for  cleve/people— paintérs,  poets,  au- 
thors— not  bemg  in  the  lea^clever  myself,  yoQ  understand. 
No,  I  don't  want  a  comojinient— there  is  no  particular  ge- 
mus  m  being  a  good  d<tncer.  For  the  rest,"  with  a  faint 
laugh,  "my  face  is  mf  fortune.  Where  is  Gprdon  Carvll 
r.ow?"  /  ^ 

She  speaks  the  niine  as  though  it  were  very  fatailiaFto  her 
— with  an  undertonè— Terry  hears  but  does  not  cpmprehend. 

"  In  Rome,  withjhis  mother."  1 

"  Does  he  ever  Jome  to  Paris  ?" 

"  He  is  eXpected  hère  ahnost  imraediately,  I  believe." 

"Ah!"  she  laJghs.  "  Well,  when  he  cornes,  Monsieur 
Dennison,  fetch  hiln  some  night  to  see  me.    Will  you?  " 

"If  he  will  conje.  And  when  he  hears  you  haye  wished 
it,  I  ani  quite  sur^he  will,"  says  Terry.  V 

There  is  a  pause.  Madame' s  eyes  are  fixed,  as  if  fasci- 
nated,  on  the  picture  beyond. 

"I  présume,  after  Mr.  Caryll's  first  unluçky  matrimonial 
venture,  he  will  hardly  thrust  his  head  intb  the  lipn's  jaw 
ag^in.  I  hâve  heard  a  rumor~but  I  can  hardly  crédit  it— 
that  he  is  to  be  married  again  next  May." 

"  It  is  quite  trtie."  \ 

"Toa  gieat  heiress— to  that  extremely  handsorae  MiM~ 


Forrester  I  saw  so  often  with  you  last  seasou  ia  the  nark  ? 


^m 

il 

\^T^ 

m 

\ 

V 

«* 

^ 

h.^^' 


•       •>!#' 


1 

:+• 

1 

i 

i 

fel^' 


30^  "Z^  B£I.L£  DAME  SAJVS  AfEjfc/.* 


France's  natue  on  Ma- 


Terrybows.     He  does  not  rc 
dame  J  elicia's  lips.  ^ 

"  It  is  a  love-match,  I  suppose  ?" 
'  A  love-match,  madame." 

weltt  fan  *ë  Lu!  "■.1.  ^^°  "°8'^  '""''^  doM  over  the 
.SsnSp  '*  ""*  '"  ^""8"  <=la»P  'hat  ,he  deKcate 

"See  what   I   hâve  donc'"  she  lancrhe    k^u- 

«and  Lord  Dynelywasgoodeno,mh*^^-'  "^'"^'"^  '^  "P  ' 
yesterdav  Well  i7h  Jî^  t  j^^  *?  ^ive  it  to  me  only 
HTa;  ^\u  r,  "**  '^^^  '*s  day— he  raust  be  content  " 
Sheflingsthe  broken  toy  ruthlessly  away.  and  looks  m  af 
htfr  cômpamon  once  njore.  "  Does  Mitk  VnrrJ^rT  ' 
P-C^-  Ç,-'7"  to  Paris  in  this  e^'e^^d' ^^^^^^  — 
rhey  ail  corne  together— his  mother,  Udy  Dvnelv  ^the 
Ca^TV^^  ^^""'^  ^  "'^*^")'  M'^^  Fo^resteVand  kr 

eye^s''?es?ôlr'Lord'n  ^1  ^^^  °i  ^'""^  ^"^  «  «'«t.     Her 


«*'< 


^.^sâu^ 


:r  -^ 


/ 


I  '  'n'^*?! 


^\ 


i  '"^«i 


'z^^'' 


**LA  BELLE  DAME  SANS  MERCI." 


303 


Madame  laughs  again  aad  shrags  her  smooth  shoulders. 

"  And  you  are  sick  of  the  subject  1  Yes,  he  interesls  me 
— one  so  seldom  meets  a  man  with  a  story  nowadays — men 
who  hâve  ever,  at  any  period  of  their  existence,  donc  the 
'ail  for  love,  and  the  world-welUost '  business.  Shall  we 
not  call  over  poor  Lord  Dynely  and  coinfort  him  a  little  ? 
He  looks  as  though  he  needed  it.  Très  her"  sfte  looks  to* 
wards  hira  and  raises  her  voice,  "  we  will  make  room  ft)r  you 
hère  if  you  like  to  corne."  >-^ 

"  I  shall  make  my  adieux,"  Lord  Dynely  aCnsweiS'shortly. 
"  You  are  being  so  well  entertained,  that  it  would  be  a 
thousand  pitiés  to  interrupt.  It  is  one  o'clock,  and  quite 
tirae  to  be  going.    Good-night." 

He  turns  abruptly  away  and  leaves  thera.  Again  madame 
laughs,  and  shrugs  her  graceful  shoulders  at  this  évidence 
of  her  power. 

"  What  bears  you  Britons  can  be  !  "  she  says  ;  "  how  sulkily 
jealous,  and  how  little  pains  you  take  to  hide  it.  Why  did 
not  your  Shakespeare  make  Othello  an  Englishman  ?  What, 
mon  ami/ — ^)'ou  going  too,? " 

"For  an  uninvited  guesthave  I  not  lingerèd  sufficiently 
long?"  Terry  answers  carelçssly,  and  th^n  he  hurriedly 
makes  his  farewells,  and  foUows  Eric  out. 

He  finds  him  still  standing  in  the  vestibule,  and  lighting  a 
cigar.  The  night  has  clouded  over,  a  fine  drizzling  rain  is 
beginning  to  fall,  but  Eric  évidently  means  to  walk.  The 
distance  to  the  Hôtel  du  Louvre  is  not  great. 

"Our  way  lies  together,  old  boy,"  Terry  says,  linking  his 
arm  familiarly  through  Eric' s,  *'  so  I  eut  it  short  and  came 
away." 

*'  What  an  awful  eut,  for  Felieia,"  Eric  retorts,  with  aa 
angry  sneer.  "  Let  me  congratulate  you,  Terry,  on  your 
évident  success  ;  I  never.knew  before  that  you  went  in  for 
that  sort  of  thin^." 

"  If  by  going  m  for  that  sort  of  thing,  you  mean  flirtation 
with  danseuses,  I  don't  go  in  for  it,"  is  Tenys^eply.  "  If  J 
did  I  should  certainly  ehoose  some  one  not  quite  old  eiiftusb 
==tô  bfrflayinother.^- 


"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  Dynely  asks,  savagely. 


t  * 


?% 


w*?- 

•■%' 


..  t 


^SVi 


'ï*\- 


,>• 


^-:'-'Ji*^•r«3 


304  "/i^  i?^iz^  DAJIf£  SANS  MERCV* 

the  Sun  shine7on  ''  ^""^  '''^  ™°''  dangerous  womai 

make  love  ri  aZr,^ltL71     '^^  ^"'  f^^^«  possible^ 
came  to  see>^«  "  ""'^    ^^'■''3'  ^^S'  quietly.     ''  l 

sorf^psE  '"'  '^"     ^^  ^"-^  ^°  «PeClïut  Denni- 

"   ton^'^YTuTrT.:^^^  resolute 

faugh  1  of  such  a  San  as  that  I  V"**  J'"i°"^-     J^^'°"^  ' 
infatuation  for  her^^onr  nJi    l    .^"^  ï^^  know  that  your 

Paris-the  talk  of  JZn?  f     •^^"''7^^"-^^  '^^  '^^  o{ 
A  furious  oath  t  Ënv/i;      ^iLo^don  itreached  me." 
free.  '  Encs  answer  as  he  wrenches  bis  arm  . 

gifts  in  th^  lap,  and  sit  at  Sfe  f  ?  f  ""^V^ile  you  fling 
do  not  set  uu  as  vo.,r  lï  ^^^  °^  ^  J^^^^^^l  "^e  that.  I 
stand  by  and^ee  ^^  htart  hr7t^'  ^iî^  nian's-but  I  will  not 
can  raiïe  my'^^T  t^tetn? '  'Eric?  iï"^'^^'.'  î*^"^  ^ 

Ihou  shalt  not  covet  thy  neighbor'rwif^l  •     îr.    ~ 
Terry,  niy  virtuous  T^m,  «,.,  ..•  ', 'e""°'^s  wije  I       My  wise 

ity,  did  you  ever  hear  S^7  '^"^  *"^  P*""™  °^^"  ™0'-al- 

only  wronder  you  took  the  TZîhu!^  ^  ^'^**  Higgins.     I 
hâve  been  pl/aban  er  to  hf vl.?.     h  k  u^T"     ^°"'^  "»  "Ot 


S-'^i.*"  V 


•*LA  BELLE  DAME   SANS  MERCI.» 


305 


Good  Heav^  I  he  says,  «  is  this  Eric  ?  If  any  othcr 
mng  man  had  sakd  as  much,  or  half  as  much,  I  would  hâve 
knocked  him  dowfn.  But  I  see  how  it  is  ;  that  devilish  §or- 
ceress  has  turned  jyour  brain.  Well— she  lias  turned  stronger 
brams,  but  she  phall  not  make  an  absolute  fool  of  ySu. 
iincl  dear  old  rn^n,  l'm  not  going  to  quarrel  with  you,  if  I 
can  he Ip  it.  You\  don't  know  what  you  are  saying.  I  pro- 
inised  htt  e  Crysta^  to  fetch  you  home  in  an  houn  It's  aw- 
fuUy  lonely  in  that  W  hôtel  for  her,  poor  child,  and  she  was 
never  used  to  bein|  alone,  you  know." 

His  voice  softened.  "Ah,  poor  httle  Crystal  !  "  he 
thmks,  with  agréât  heart.pang," if  yourmarried  hfe  begins 
like  this,^  how  m  Heaven's  nanie  will  it  end  1  " 

"So!"  Eric  says  between  his  set  teeth,  ''she  sent  you 
after  me,  did  she  ?-a  naughty  little  boy  to  be  brought  home 
and  whippedl  Perhaps  she^so  told  you  where  to  find 
me?' 

"She  told  me  nothing— nothing,  Eric,  and  you  know  it," 
Terry  answers,  sternly.  »  Is  it  likely  she  would  discuss  her 
husband  with  any  one  ?  It  wasn't  difficult  to  find  you. 
Ihe  very  street  gamins  could  hâve  told  me,  I  fancy,  so  well 
is  your  new  infatuation  known,  Eric,  old  fellow,  we  hâve 
been  like  brothers  m  the  past,  don't  let  us  quarrel  now. 
A^eep  clear  of  that  woman— she's  dangerous— awfully  dan- 
éerous,  I  tell  you.  She  has  ruined  the  lives  of  a  score  of 
nien-don't  let  her  rum  yours.  Don't  let  her  break'  Crys- 
tal s  heartr-Crystal,  vfhose  whole  life  is  bound  up  in  yours. 
2l7"        *^"<^^POO'"  li"le  soûl— if  you  hâve  none  for  your- 

Again  Eric  laughs  harshly  and  long. 
^"Hear  him,  yé  godsl  Terry  Dennison  in  the  rôle 
o!  parsonl  Is  your  sermon  quite  ISnished,  old  boy  ?— 
because  hère  we  are.  Or  islthis  but  a  prélude  to  a  few  more 
to  (îorae?  How  well  the  patronizing  elder-brother  tone 
cornes  from  vou— you,  of  ail  men-the  dépendant  of  my 
mother's  bouBty.  She  comes  to  Paris  next  week-^-what  fine 
litones  you  wiU  hâve  to  tell  hfer-^whàt  éloquent  ler.t..ré.s  yn.. 
=^- prépare,  toptM?:  Let  ,^  tell  you  this,  once'andfoT 
Ml,  Dennison,"  he  says,  wh|^ith  anger,  hijLjblue  eyes 


4,' 


't  '''"^m¥Mimiéb.i^^.^ .  • 


•4, 


'>     T'  ■  .■■'•     ■','  "'■■•i.f  '<';^^«v-. -.•^'■ff  .■-'.tgyT-^-'--?!«i^r-i''^'t;'rafe^>'»yA"^, ;■'"■  *■"  ;^»'T-<-r'\f "■<wiiiM.i»-'wig*wmr^iw»illMHir 

/  •«.«      "  """'" 

306    .        "Z^  B£LL£  DAME  SANS  MERCI.'* 

De  taken  to  task  hy^o  raan  ahve,  least  of  ail  L  vou  /    Le 
-     îe^'nt':  r    '"'  "'  ^'"  *'  °"^^  ^"^  forever, //S^-you'l! 
^  Then  he  tums.  dashes  up  tbe  wide  staimay,  and  Teny  ig 


^ 


,»rc 


^ 

«. 

7 
/ 

« 

.^ 

1 

' 

■^ 

( 

* 

^ 

%> 

t-- 

P 

«.     . 

i 

^^, 

-  / 

^ 

• 

-" 

■/ 

G 

1. 

4 

% 

■# 

K 

/ 

■ 

' 

/  . 

, 

^^ 

' 

. 

4 

J^ 

i 

—Ts. 

.  . 

. 

^ 

- 

-' 

.  â 

- 

K< 


■/  '  .;'f 


«rfe'w?*^  -^1^  ^ 


Vi 


■^S/^tJ-V^^  it     V^l 


■r 


"'i'':^:m 


-     CHAPTER    III.^  f 

ÏN  THE  STRKETS.  ^ 

|ERRY  stands  for  a  while  irresolute.      One  by  one 

hç  clocks  of  the  great  city  chime  out  the  hour  af- 

ter  midnight;    a  kw  belated   pedestrians,  a  few 

„:  ^..  ,  u  ^^r?^'*-  ^^^"  P^"s  is  settling  itself  for  its 
night's  sleep,  but  Dennison  has  no  thought  of  sleepinV  I? 
Ls  of  ^lo  use  mounting  to  his  cock-loft  under  the  eaves  in  Ws 
présent  -  drsturbed  state   of  niind-sleep   and  he  wilî  b^ 

f^l3av-^f"tt  f  r'S^'r  »^«;Septen,ber-since  that  event! 
mi  day  i3f  the  Lmco  nshire  picnic,  when  ail  that  was  bright- 

^^^h  ^^^M'^^^P^o  thàt  he  nmde ïer  happy,  T^rry 
could  hâve  borne  his  p^  wit^  patient  heroisn»  to  the  end  • 
bu  tto-night,  the  old.  half^healed  ^ang  contes  back  sharp  and 
buter  as  ever.  Only  six  weeks  a  bride-six  weeks  and 
^t^^'P^H^ë^d^^re^y-hh  brief,  hpt  fancrdus  '  a^ 
J^es-^Fehcia,  the  actress,  prgferred  beforp  CVystal,   the 

"He's  a  Villain,"  Terry  thought,  savàgely  «he's  wome 
than  a  v}llain--he's  a  fool^  Yes!  b^  JovTl  L'^cyLyoy^ 
hère,  a  fool  of  the  fourth  story."  .     ' 

rrSfoi^K^!!"^  r"?,  **  ^^^  '^'"^«'^  ^'i^'-e  four  hours  ago 
Costal  had  wistfully  sat  Lights  stiU  burned  there.  wLs  . 
Er.ctak.ng  her  to  t^sk  for  what  Ar  had  done-little  Cristal, 
«?.!  S  ""^  °"u  T'  'P°^«  ^  ^^'^^  '^o^d  1  He  could  no 
iTthi^T ''"*'  '^'  "^^"«^^  ^  ^^  mind-S  turned,  and 
w.thout  knomng  or  caring  whither,  made  his  way  throueh 
the  now  ahnost  silent  city  streets.  ^  mrougn 


-^he  dnzzfingTÉm  thaï  hàd  begun  to  fàîr  àrmîaHightWiT 
fiJling  stUl.  not  heavily,  but  with'a  sniall,  scaking^lrS 


V, 


é^i 


308 


/ 


1 0 


/iV  TVSr^  STREETS. 


where  he  went,  or  ho«r  faV       His  "h  A°"' ^""^« ''«e%* 
Crystal-what  shouJd  he  dd  for  h.  >  k«^*\^^'"'^  *»*"  ^tJl 

no  onè  knew  bettef  than  tI.     u  "^"'^nstrate  «rith,  Eric- 

obsdnate  opposition  ^"^^de  Wrn^  '?fV/''^'?i'^  *"^  "«•') 
h«m  to  nu  t  Paris.      h;»         l      ^  "^  <^"W  only  induré. 

knewhoî  litt£Tm,e„S\r™o:Lrr  r"^"«'    ^'^  Te"^ 

gratitaion  of  hfs  own  fancy  was  con^"^  "^^  '^'™  ^"^^^^  ^^e 

,  self  |t  did  not  so'much  St^r     h.r"^'^-^  ^^'^  ^"^  '^•m- 

dancer,  untiJ  his  feverish  fL!^„  k  ^°"^"P<^J^  Ihe  dark-<;yed 
scores  of  other  feveriiSnclsT^J^'^^^"*  ^^  «°  "^"X 
who  was  to  hecx^Meà^cL^^^  ^^^^  "  ^^^  Crystal 
love,  who  drooped  iKady  like^  bL  °r  '""^  ''"^  '"  ^is 
he  was  breaking  as  thon^hrii    i        ?^^"  'l'y— whose  heart 

Poor,  and  ail  tbat.  Even  so  \ltV  }V'^^  «^"erosity  to  the 
«ay  spare  one  victim  o'^^^?!^.^;?,'^  «^^  ^^«^"et^e  as  she  is 
Jow  ,t  ,s,  tell  her  of  the  IZ  tll  '^"'^r^'''  ^^^  'e»  her 
hej  a.Kl  ask  her  to  shu^th'eToo  lL\'L'^fr^£ '^ J^'-?  ^- 
once,  1  remenaber.  afr*.r  »hoi.  ^^^lii '^  told  me 

favnr   T  ^u  .  .'  a'ter.  tnat  runawav  rrr^'MM''m^  tit 

looked  about  him.     For  the  firc.  7"     u^*."*^^  suddenly  and 
»»«  had  lost  his  w^iY  thaT^ht     .^^  ^^  became  aware  thd 
t^^  Chili  anî   afny  and"'tt't  T  "'T*^'"»'  ^^^  ^ 
Reai^e  be^tter.      As  he  tnrn^S      ^  '°,°?^'"  '^^  «^^aced 
»  eaLw  crvnfJ^^^  *'^-^'  ^«'"^  and  far  off 

Teny  pl.nged  in  tLTrS.So^^'^?"  ^^  ^°"fc'    i».    . 

.  * 


'ÈÊÊÈ^ 


he 


V* 


iâîkJi^  t,  îft\là 


■\»^ 


,  ,ftm,âVfiut' 


loming. 
pockets 
eediew  ,*i 

i»    ir 

Eric— . 

Uttfl»]) 

induce 
Terry 
!re  the 
c  him- 
>end  a 
c-çyed 
niany 
■rystal 
in  bis 
heart 
care- 

1  last 

they 
3  the 
he  is 
Iher 
s  for 
I  me 

any 
id  I 

ucn 
and 
hat 
t  it 
ced 
off, 
leii 
In.    . 


■^^^*%- 


/AT  THE  STREETS. 


■^C-i 


•S.- 


309 


W 


The  cry  was-repeated,  nearer  this  tfme— a  shrill,  sharp  cry 
of  affright.  He  made  for  the  sound,  turned  a  corner,  ànd 
found  hijnself  1n  a  narrow^dark  street,  high  house»  frowning 
on  either  hand,  and  a  wonian,  flying,  parttiog,  and  cryinc 
ont,  wîth  two  men  iil  hot  pursuit.  -  ^ 

'•  Hallo  !"  Dennison  cried,  sending  Ws  sWong,.4iearty, 
Eoglish  voice  through  the  empty,  silent  8treet,i?*  what  the 
deuce  is  to  pay  hère?  "  ,  ,  . 

With  a  shriti  scream  of  delight  the  iflying  figure  madé  for 
him  and  clutched  his  arm,  panting  for  breath.  v 

"  Oh,  sir,  you  are  English,"  she  gasped,  iiH^iat  language  : 
"  save  me  from  those  horrid  men  !  "  ^  -    t:^ 

Terry  passed  his  right  arm  around  her.  One  of  %.tne% 
a  beetle-browed,  black-bearded  Frenchman,  caB^e  insolently 
up,  and  witljôut  further  parley  Mr.  Dennison  shot  out  his^ 
left  in  the  most  scientific  nianner,  and  laid  him  on  tbe  pave- 
ment. His  companion  paused  a  second  të  see  his  fellow's 
fate,  and  then  precipitately  fled. 

;  "And  unlesà  we  want  the  gendarmes  to  conie  up  and 
Pârch  «s  to  the  station,  we  had  better  foUow  his  example,  I 
think,"  said  MLiDénnison  to  hfs  fair  friend.       \  ■ 

He  looked  down  as  he  spoke  with  some  curiosity.  -Aa 
Englishwoman  alono'and  belated  at  Ihis  hour,  in  the  street» 
of  Pans,  was  a  curiôkity.  The  ligbt  of  a  street  lamp  fell  ful| 
upon  her.  A  woman  I  why,  she  wâà  a  child,  or  little  better^' 
a  sinall,  dark,  elfish-looking  objçct,  w1ih  two  wild  black  eyes 
set  in  a  minute  white.fece,  and  a  dishevelled  cloud  of  black 
'  hair,  falling  ail  wet  and  di^ordered  over  her  shoulders.  " 

"Who  are  you?"  wm  Dennison's  first  astounded  ques. 
tion. 

The  wild  black  eyes  lifted  themselves  to  his  face — two 
small  hands  clutched  hl*  arm  tightly.  Where  had  he  seen 
eyes  like  those  before  ?  ^> 

"Oh,  «ri  don't  leavc^^,  please  I  I  am  so  afraid  I  it  is 
Bolate." 

•'  Late  I    Egad,  f  should  think  so.    Rather  late  for  a  IktJe 

gu-1  to  be  wandering  the  streets  of  any  city,  French  or  Eng-. 

Jahr  _  YoiLii»  n  liftle  gjgl,  arcn't  you  ?"  doubtfully. 


% 


y-s-< 


% 


i- 


^. 


■^  ^f 


"I  am  aixteen  years  and  six  months — and  I  didn't  want 


-\* 


'^^  , 


'^^ 


f^ry^,  S^;X<^\  >''^l§^ 


hftf'-* 


Jio 


fJV  THE  STREETS. 


7X' 


fr-- 


?'tH'  ■ 


,4f\ 


to  wander  the  streets.    I  lost  mv  wav»  »o»  *u 
somewhat  angrily  given.  ^      ^'    ^  ^^^  *"'^"' 

"Whoareyou?" 

"  I  am  Gordon  Kennedy."  . 

"And  howr  do  you  corne  to  hâve  lost  your  wav  if  T  m», 
ftsk,  Miss  Gordon  Kennedy  ?  "  ^  ^'  "  *  "^^ 

,The  big  black  eyés  lifted  tHemselves  again  to  his  face  in 
"  W  "5:  'S^^*"'"!  '^'^J'"^-     E^i<î^"tly  the  gaze  wasrSssur 

.   ms  arm.     liut  again  Terry  was  nonpiussed— z»/i^rij  haH  hï 
seen  some  one  like  this  before  ?  ^  "* 

swëred^'^Th  a"'"  ??otland-from  Glasgo<»r."  the  girl  an- 

the  train  tp-nfgft.     I  hâve  .ef^littir^'oney/hl^^^^^^^^^ 
fo^  in^t°i^^  '?°"«^  '°  try  and  find  the  person  I  wSon 

«w?îi  !      "  *"'*.°"  î  '*  fi^®^  dreadfuUy  late  ;  I  thoueht  T 
woud  stay  ,n  a  church  porch  until  morning  out  of  thefa  n 

lowed  anTsaotT'""*  'T  °°^'  ^'^"^^  *-<>  dreadîîl  men  fôu 
lowea  and  spoke  to  me.  I  ran  away  and  they  oursued  V 
.  ^ceamed  for  help  and  you  caîne.  And  I  ^^ve^  ;erJ 
much  «bhged  to  you  sir,"  concluded  Miss  GordoS^'xen^ 
fclr'"  -^-'^.  upward.grateful  glaTcrofth" 

"  And  how  do  you  know  whether  I  a*  anv  better  than  fh« 
two  men  you  fled  fn>m  ?  "  Terry  asked.  wkhVSSSaugS 
J  n^'  f' J°  r  "^  ^"S''^»^'  *"<»  yo"  hâve  a  good  face      I 

zT^t'ârkr  '''  ''''  ^"^'^^^^^^  -^•^'  --"p- 

"  Thank  you,"  Terry  said,  stiU  lâuehinir  •  "it  i«.  th«  k;  t. 
est   compliment  ever  paid  me    in^  liVe     WelL  mIJ 

w  whS'shflïf  i     ^K  y^V^^i  convenient  church  porch! 
on  àtî.?«"  L  ?  '^**'  >'?"  ^    ^^«"  a  church  porch  in  P«S 

yoimg  lady  of  sixteen.    Where  shall  I  take  yoù  ?  "^^       * 


y^ii. 


!a»f«:î,î^iâ£Ê»bî^ 


,,^S'^^  .yr^r'^^^'^^^'^W'^^l^'. 


a'  f  1 


/J\r  THE  STREETS. 


311 


"  I  don't  know,"  the  girl  answered,  with  an  air  of  anxious 

distress.     •«  If  it  were  not  so  late,  so  dreadfully  late,  I  might 

try  to  find  her.     Tell  me,  sir,  are  ail  the  théâtres  closed  yet  ?  " 

'♦  Closed  two  hours  ago.     You  don't  think  of  exchanging 

the  church  porch  for  a  théâtre,  do  you,  mam'selle  ?" 

**  Don't  laugh  at  me,"  she  returned,  with  asudden  flash  of 
the  black  eyes  ;  "  there's  nothing  to  laugh  at.  I  want  to 
find  a  person  who  belongs  to  a  théâtre— a  lady.^n  actress. 
She  plays  at  the  Varieties." 

"At  the  Varieties?"  Terry  repeated,  a  little  startled. 
The  flashmg  bràck  eyes  had  once  more  discomfited  hira  by 
theu-  resçmblance  to  other  eyes  he  had  somewhere  seen.  "  I 
knpw  some  of  ^he  ladies  who  play  at  the  Varieties.  May  I 
ask  whatis^h«rname?" 

"  It  i*  Madame  Feliqia." 

They  i^ere  walkiiïg  swiftly  along  through  the  rain.  At 
thèse  words  Dennison  suddenly  stood  still.  The  girl  looked 
up  at  him  in  surprise.  Again,  by  the  glare  of  the  street 
lamps,  that  strange,  striking  resemblance  flashed  upon  him. 
Madame  Feîicia  I  Why,  this  child  was  sufficiently  like 
Madame  Felicia  to  be  her  own  daughter.  Well— Terry  sup- 
pressed  a  whistle,  and  still  stared  blankly  down  at  his  little 
companion.  > 

"  Wel  V  she  cried,  impatiently,  «  what  is  it  ?— Why  do  you 
iook  at  me  so  ?  Hâve  I  said  anything  strange  ?  Do  you 
know,"  with  a  sudden  glow  of  hope,  "Madame  Felicia?" 

"  Corne  on,"  was  Terr/s  answer  ;  "  you'll  get  your  death 
standmg  hère  in  the  rain.  Do  I  know  Madame  Felicia  ? 
Well— a  little.     Do  you  know  her  ?  "  *^ 

"  No." 

"  You  don't  !     Then,  why— if  I  may  ask— " 
rrhe  dark  eyes  look  ûp  at  him  again  withanother  pétulant 
flash. 

"No,  you  may  not  ask  !  I  can't  tell  you.  I  want  to  find 
Madame  Fehcia— the  actress  who  plays  at  the  Varieties. 
That  is  ail  I  intend  to  tell  you.  I  hâve  corne  ail  the  way 
from  Qlasgpwalone  lo  find  her.     Imust  find  her~tn.njght. 


-^n^it  nossiblè;    Shéîs  the  only  fiiend  I  hâve  in  the  world.    Ôhi 
sir,  you  hâve  bccn  very  good  to  me.    You  bave  done  me  a 


\, 


"ft*f 


,'tt\!è^^'#'^ 


W^&;^})f'^' 


^ntuMim.  •«• 


,,  ."f/--^»'"^^  • 


312 


IN  THE  STREETS. 


^r 


'r 


t  '•' 


i' 


J-v, 


'♦' 


\    great  setvice— I  know  you  hâve  a  kind  heart  ;  take  pîty  on 
me  and,  if  you  know  her,  take  me  to  her." 

*Does  she  expect  you  ?"  Terry  asked,  staggered. 
"  No,  sir,  slie  does  nol  ;  but  ail  the  same  she  wUl  take  care 
Of  me." 

"  You  are  quite  sure  of  that  ?  " 
"  Quite  sure,  sir." 

"  Hâve  you  ever  met  Madame  Felicia?"  -'  * 

';Never  to  remember  her,  but  l  know  what  she  is  like.^^*. 
It  is  a  great  many  years  since  she  came  to  see  me.*T  We 
hved  m  Canada  then."   " 
♦«We — whoni^" 

"  Joan  and  me.  Joan  is  my  foster-mot^er,  and  she  is 
dead.  But  I  hâve  no  right  to  tell  you  this.  I  won'i  tell 
you  !  "  with  a  child's  impatient  pétulance  again. 
'rw,  "  ^°"  speak  of  Madame  Felicia  visiting  you  in  Canada," 
Terry  went  on,  taking  no  notice  of  the  brief  outbreak  of 
anger;  "you  must  make  a  mistake,  mademoiselle.  The 
Madame  Felicia  I  know  was  never  in  Canada  in  her  life  " 

"  Look  hère  1  "  cried  the  girl,  excitedly.  She  disenga^ed 
her  arm,  and  produced  a  photograph  from  the  pocket  of 
her  dress.  "  Look  at  this  !  Is  your  Madame  Felicia  anv- 
thmg  hke  this  ?"  ' 

They  pause  again— again  beneath  a  street  iamp— and  he 
looks  at  the  picture.  Madame  Felicia,  sure  enoueh— to 
the  hfe— a  soflly  tinted,  perfect  likeness. 

"Well?"  the  girl  impatiently  demands.  He  hands  it 
back  and  looks  at  her  with  strongest  curiosity. 

*•  That  is  my  Madame  Felicia.  There  is  but  one  such 
face  as  that  on  earth.  And,  I  repeat  again,  she  never  was 
in  Canada." 

«.«r.^"?  ^  ""^P^^'  ^^^  «""/"  she  flashed  out  angrily. 
•  Why  do  you  contradict  me  ?  I  know  bettet  I  It  is  yery 
inapohte  !  She  aw  in  Canada  !  she  was  I  she  was  I  She 
lived  there— I  was  born  there — " 

She  paused.     In  her  excited  véhémence  she  had  betraye*. 
nerself.    She  clasped  hçr  hands  and  looked  up  at  him  wildly 


%i\I, 


.■T. 


'Smbi^siÈmatAL 


*>'*%a2K 


n  ,•»"■.!»  .*"„'»: 


w 


/-^ 


^^r  THE  STREETS. 


313 


"No,  of  course  Ut,"  Derinison  responded,  unable  tore 
press  a  smUe.     Whlt    a  child  she  evidenti;  was,  wSt  a 
passionate,  excitable,!  wilful  child  !  *•,  wnat  a 

«It?hf  S"^.  ""^  ^^fi^''"    '•'^  *^"^^'  '^^'^  ^  sort  of  sob. 
»:,«     f  °  i^^^'-  f  ""^r'  so  wet  !     I  never  was  ont  at  this 

She  sighed  bitterly  a^d  clutig  to  hîm,  looking  about  at  the 
unfemihar  scène,   her  ^yes^  dusk  with  bewilderment  and 

fl,J'^°*"  was  your  motlier?"  Terry  insinuated  :    «no.  bv 
thebye,  yourfoster-mother?"  "",  oy 

"  It  does  not  matter  to  jou  what  she  was  I  "  retorts  Mîss 
Kennedy,  wuh  a  sudden  return  to  sharpness.  «' TO  m 
take  me  to  Madame  Felicia,  or  will  you  not  ?-there  1  "  ^ 

•  ^y  **^,^'"  child,  Madame  Felicia  will  be  in  bed." 
bhe  wiU  get  up  when  shë  hears  who  I  am.     Oh  !  please 
toke  me  to  her  house-only  to  her  house.     She^l   R 

«  wï    ^\  *^t^  '^'■^  °^  ttie  when  she  hears  who  1  âm." 

rll  aI^'';.  PfT"^t^'  Pï^^ing.  «Ptumed  faceUt  thf 
large,  dilated  black  eyes.  "^  was  in  Canada,  and  you 
were  born  therel  There  is  a  story  in  the  past,  then;  C 
madame  keep<i  as  a  sealed  book.  I  always  thoiX  so-I 
m^X  ey"f."'  '''"'  '^^  "^  '"^  ^«'  ^^^«^^^  a3^  ?hai 
_  "  Will  you  take  me  to  her-iay?"  cried  the  girl,  gîvintf 
his  arm  an  angry,  impatient  shafce,  "or  are  you  a  4cked 
man  after  ail  like  the  Frenchman  you  knocked  do^T'' 

sort  of  "Stvfn  Mff  ^  "  7"?  """P* W'  ^*"«^''^«'  »«<»  ^^it»*  a 
.ÏLr  iw?i  ^  "  ,*"'  *^*  ?■■  ^'^'^  unsfïÂisticated  ?hUd.  «  My 
mi  J"  5  ^J'î  ^°-  y  *"*  *^^  iP^ation  of  every  do- 
mestic  and  Christian  virtue,  an(J  ï  will  Iake  you  to  M^àme 
Felicia  instanter.  We  are  near  her  bouse  now-I  only  ho^ 
she  wiU  take  you  m.    If  she  itiU  not,  some  ône  dse  ST 

had  fallen  into  other  hands."  i~»«"  wuiu 


S!ï^^!:^;tl?i5sî^?î^«*^^^^^ 


Ittely  shiken  a  littte,  grtteful  «queeze. 
14 


'      1 


.'^ 


■:I1 


i>^7 


t.   Cl".  '      t.,      .".    ..   ->fâi' 


-  .     .     314 


■A 


ï». 


■>• 


■'*jt.UL.^I 


-f' 


IN  THE  STREETS. 


T  1,  »    ."  f  ^°°^-  ,.^*'"  ^^^'y  ï  '^as  so  cross  with  you,  but 
I  hâte  to  be  contradicted.    She  wiU  take  care  of  me  :  don't  • 
you  be  afraid,  and  she  wiU  thank  you  too.     What  is  your 

-     •*  Terry,  mademoiselle." 
"  Terry  what  ?  " 

nJJ/"^  Dennison;  and  yours  you  say  is  Gordon  Ken- 
neay  ?    An  odd  name  for  a  young  lady." 

fh-*  ï^  '^"i'  '*  •*  ®".'  ^''^  ^°'"^°"  ^as  after  my  father,  and 
S^rforlU^  ^"^  J°^"-      J--^  âlways^alled  me 

J^'Ia^I  ^/?u ^^^ "^^^  M^^""  J*^*"'  "^^  '*' •*  That's  odd  too. 
Had  your  father  no  other  name  than  Gordon?  Was  that 
his  family  nanife  ?  "  *vds  inai 

KenL'ï^'/r  ''°"^'^?'u  ^'m,'"  ™^"y  questions  !"  was  Miss 

don  KennÏÏ^  ""5°ï*^  *^  ^^  questions.     My  name  is  Ôor- 

Tl  Tî  ^'  *°'*,  ^  ''*"*  *°  g°  t°  Madame  Felicia-that's 
enough  for  you  to  know."  ' 

«  T 'ifiîfl  yt"""  P^*"^»»'  mademoiselle,"  Terry  said,  laughing  ; 

Felica'l  Jndïl?;     I^o°'t.offend  again.    Heré  we  aret 

ouSe  at\.  il^  •?  ^'5  •'"'"•'"«f  r^-  Stand  hefe  ;  I  will  in- 
quire  at  the  loge  if  madame  is  to  be  seen." 

hnlH  J^ '^  ^î""  ^"ï  hastened  to  make  inquiries.  The  house- 
an  1.  î^^™^  ^^^  "°*  ^"*  retired-madame's  chasseur,  in 
f 3  V  ^t^'  ""*'  prpduced.  who  in  voluble  French  de- 
tlwt  hoir  ""^^  ^  impossible  to  disarrange  madame  at 

«ië,^a^LT.!?'"/.K  "^^^'"  I?ennison  said,  authoritatively  ; 
I  w^ex^ptr  to°Ver'""^""^*  ""P^^^*^^^  *°  "^^^^"'^  h--'^' 

bacïr^j'w^îtinï  pr4r™™  '^^^•""  '"*^"^' 

fhJi^tr  ^°"  *"ythmg-anote,a  token  tosend  to  madame 
MpSd^'°''*'  ^"'^  ^^"^'^  '    ^*  '^  °°*  «^«  yo"  «'se»"  »>« 

The  girl  produced  froro  her  pocket  »  smaU  seoled  oadceL 
and  put  it  confidendy  in  hig  ha^  *^^ 


=*lïHnr  ^i»e  me  tifti  Dé^e  shç  4îe4"  sfcç  said.    "She" 


j-^  „ 


^f 


IN  THE  STREETS. 
aiready  retired-she  r™,îî     .T""  "  '"'"'•      Madame  hid 

.   W^W'nadaiMreceive^^JOr^    .7°ï  **  "  "'" 

^»'„".e.      Oh,  if  she  Toe,'  rori^'wi,!  tco« 

The  maid  «lura(^  c,,rii-,    '^•"'T*  ""=  "oman  now." 
her  ftce.  ""^  «"««y  painted  on  every  featnre  <rf 

U,';'n,'^:,SS'on°ï^.?"'"*"-     ««■->-"«  wa. 
ne  Drefiis#^  fK^  lu^i i«  * 


•B        '"'"«' ««"Mat a rapidpace for hishotet 


vï*ï 


ML 


't« 


^J  '^r^.^$r  • 


'^^m 


Si' 


Ai 


V 


516 


^  m  '^^'^i^l'-^-  'r..^vCî%^i#;o-<^-'^f 


/AT  TffB  STREETS. 


"  Sô  I  "  he  thought  ;  "  an  odà  adventure,  surely  !  I  seem 
destined  to-  be  mixed  up  in  Madame  Feliciâ^s  aifairs.  Will 
shte  be  gratefui,  or  the  reverse,  for  this  night's  work,  I  won- 
der  ?  Tbat  girl's  matemity  is  written  in  her  face — althougH; 
of  course»  ^e  might  be  Ê'çlicia's  sister.  1  wish  I  could  get 
a  hold  upon  her  of  any  sort,  yes,  of  any  sort,  that  would 
make  her  hear  to  reason  about  Dynely.  Corne  what  niay, 
I  don't  car^  how,  M  must  be  freed  froni  her  thralL" 

He  had  reached  his  hoteL  It  was  past  two  now.  Bot  few 
lights  bumed — Eric's  rooms  were  in  darkness. 

Rather  fagged,  Tehy  made  his  way  to  his  own  sky-parlor, 
and  soon  forgot  his  first  eyentâil'  Pari»  eveniog  in  sound, 
fatigued  slsep.       .  ' 


^ 


r 


\  i 


,       V 


....t 


"*^ 


*;^> 


iP*  ■  *>•■  ^  ^  '« ,- 


yr'itU'^^^ 


CHAPTER    IV. 


DONNY. 


^•*.^ 


W-5 


IlIE  departurç  of  Lord  Dynely  and  Dennison  waa 
the  signal  for  the  departure  of  the  rest  of  madame'* 
guests.  Half  an  hour  later  and  thé  lights  were 
fled,  the  garlands  dead,  and  Felicia  was  alone  in 
her  own  pretty,  rose-hung,  gas-lit  drawing^room.  She  lay' 
back  in  the  soft  depths  of  her  fauteuil,  a  half-sraile  on  her 
lips,  too  luxuriously  indolent  as  yet  even  to  make  the  exer- 
tion  of  retiring.  The  picture  "  How  the  Night  Fell  "  was 
thé  object  upon  which  her  long,  lazy  eyes  rested,  while  that 
well-satisûed  smile  curled  her  thin  red  lips. 

"  So  he  is  coming,"  she  was  thinking  ;  "  and  he  is  to  be 
mariled.  To  be  marn'ed  to  France  FtttTester,  one  of  the 
very  proudest  girls  in  England,  as  I  hâve  heard.  She  knows 
ail  about  my  story,  no  doubt.  And  she  thinks,  and  he  thinks, 
and  they  ail  think,  I  was  killed  in  that'railway  accident  so 
many  years  ago.  Her  mother  was  a  French  Canadian  ;  and 
she  is  of  her  mother's  religion,  so  they  tell  me  ;  and  even  if 
her  pride  would  permit,  her  religion  would  forbid  her  to 
mamr  a  man  who  is  the  husband  of  one  living  divorced  wife. 
And  tJtiis)  then,  is  the  form  my  vengeance  is  to  take  after  ail. 
I  hâve  wondered  so  ofterf,  so  often — it  seemed  so  impossible 
my  ever  being  able  to  reach  hinij  my  ever  being  able  to 
make  hira  suflfer  one  tithe  of  what  he  has  matle  me.  But, 
*I  hâve  him  otf  the  hip'  now.  Through  his  love  for 
this  girl  I  will  stab  him  to  the  heart.  I  will  part  thera 
and  stand  between  thêta— ay,  even  if  I  hâve  to  make  my  his- 
tory  patent  to  the  world.  If  I  h*ve  to  confess  to  Di  Venturini, 
to  whom  I  hâve  lied  so  long.  I  will  prevent  his  marriage  il 
I  hâve  to  do  it  by  the  forfeit  of  my  own." 

^^ySie  laiiied  «  moment  to^roU  np  and  lîg^t  x  rose-a 

cigarette^  her  face  clouding  a  little  at  her  own  thoughts^ 


i^-^X. 


'-'.&.^*«.k 


.v45^ 


318 


PONNY. 


V 


V 


-Si     "> 


^ 


"  It  will  be  a  sacrifice  too,  if  I  should  hâve  to  make  things 
publie,  to  confess  to  the  prince.     He  knows  nothing  of  iny 
past  llfe,  except  the  pretty  little  romance  I  invented  for  his 
benefit.     At  my  worst    he   believes  me  to  be  an  outra- 
geous  caquette  with  more  head  than  heart,  not  in  the  least 
hkely  to  be  led  astray  by  the  tender  passion,  and  with  no 
false  pride  to  stand  in  the  way  of  my  accepting  costly  prés- 
ents.    Indeed^i  ip  the  very  fishy  state  of  the  prince' s  ovra 
exchequer  sîftce  I  hâve  known  hita,  the  diamond  bracelets, 
etcetra,  were  uot  at  ail  obnoxious  in  his  siglit"    She  lifted 
her   dusk,    lovely  arm,   and   Jooked  with  glittering    eyes 
»'  Jhe  broad^  band  of  yellow  gold,  ablaze  with  brilliants. 
"  What  a  fool  that  boy  lordling  is  I  "  she  thought,  contenip- 
tuoBsly  ;  "  so  great  a  fool  that  there  4s  really  no  crédit  in 
twisting  him  round  one's  fingek     And  he  has  a  bride  of  six 
weeks'  standing,  they  tell  me— neglected  and  alone  for  me*^ 
at  the  Louvre.    Ah  !   thèse  brides  1  "   with  a  soft  laiigh. 
"She  is  not  the  first  whose  bridegroom  hàs  left  lier  to  spend 
the^honeymoon  at  my  feet.     He  is  a  relative  of'jCaryll's, 
too.     WiU  his  neglect  of  her,  and  besotted  admiration  of 
me,  be  another  dajgger  to  help  stab  hirn?     ïf  there  were  no 
bracelets-in  question  I  think  that  motive  «rbuld  be  strong' 
enough  to  make  me  hold  fast." 

She  flung  away  her  cigarette  and  began  abruptly  drawing 
off  the  many  rich  rings  with  which  her  Angers  were  loaded. 
On  the  third  finger  of  the  left  hand,  one— a  plain  band  of 
gold,  wom  thin  by  time — ^alone  remained— the  only  one  she 
did  not  remove.  She  Ufted  her  pretty,  dimpled  brown  hand, 
and  gazed  at  it  darkly.  X  \ 

"I  wonder  why  I  hâve  wom  you  ail  this  time?"   she 
mused,    "My  wedding  ring!   that  for  sucteen  years  has 
meant  nothing— less  than  nothing.    And  yet  by  day  and  by 
night,  I  hâve  wom  you  in  memory  of  that  deàd  time — 
of  that  brief  five  months,  when  I  was  so  happy,  as  I  hav«   ; 
never  jn  the  hours  of  my  greatest  triumph,  been  happy  since. 
Di  yenturini  sàys  it  is  not  in  me  to  love.     He  is  in  Ipve,  poor   ! 
little  oïd  idiot  1    If  he  could  hâve  seen  me  then  !  "     , 
,       iHieavily^inber  iap,  she  sighed  drearflf. 
"How  happy  I  wasl  how  I  did  love  th^t  manl  what 


t^^MÂM 


u. 


4  'Ss.-jA..i^Jfi.4'  %i^  *<*<! 
-     -4, 


,'"31 


DONNY. 


319 


a  good  woman  î  lïiight  hâve  been  if  he  would  hâve  but  for» 
given  and  trusted  fne.  But  he  spurned  me,  he  drove  me  to 
desperation,  to  dekth  nearly.  What  did  he  care  ?  I  vowed 
my  turn  ^ôuld  cotpe — for  sixteen  years  I  havs  waited,  and  it 
has  not.  But  the  longest  lane  has  its  turnihg,  and  my  hour 
is  nov^^^'  \ 

Sbe  arose  and  Walked  up  and  down,  her  0oating  muslin 
a^  laces  sweeping  behind  her.  Once  she  jJaùsed  before  the 
picture,  leaning  oyer  the  back  of  a  chair,  and  looking  up  at 
it  with  a  curiou»  sjnile. 

.  "  What  an  agoniized  face  he  has  painted,"  she  said  softiy  ; 
"whjit  anguish  and  despair  in  those  wild  eyes.  Did  I 
.^reallyxlook  Hke  that,  1  wonder  ?  and  what  was  there  in  him 
thàt  I  should  weir  Ihat  tortured,  face  for  his  loss.  Good 
Heaven  !  if  it  copies  to  that,  what  is  there  ili  ahy  man  ihat 
women  should  go;mad  for  their  loss  or  gain — selfish,  reckless 
fools,  one  amd  ail!  Even  he  is  ready  tô  paint  his  own  folly 
and  madness  of  the  paât,  to  make  monèy  of  it  in  thê 
présent" 

She  tumed  away  with  an  impatient,  scornful  last  glance 
and  slowly  left  the  room.  Up  in  her  own  chatuber,  she  rang^ 
for  her  maid,  and  with  a  ^wn  resigned  herself  into  her  hands 
for  the  night. 

*'  If  I  can  only  make  it  ail  right  with  the  prince,"  she 
mused,  as  the  Frencliworaan  brushed  out  her  thick,  black 
hair.  "I  don't  want  to  lose  him,  particularly  now,  as  he  has 
corne  to  his  own  again.  Madame  la  Prince^iic  Di  Venturini  1 
My  faith!  a  rise  in  life  for  the  little  beggarly  smger  of  the 
New  York  concert  hall,  for  poor  old  Major  LoveU's  acconi- 
plice,  for  Gordon  Caryll's  cast-off  wife.  No,  I  must  not  lose 
the  prize  if  I  can,  and  he  is  most  horribly  jealous.  Let  the 
truth  reach  hiui — that  I  hâve  had  a  husband,  that  I  bave  a 
daughter,  and  much  as  he  is  infatuated,  I  really  and  truly 
believe  he  will  throw  me  over." 

Her  thoughts  wandeted  off  into  another  channel,  suggested  . 
by  the  incidental  reniembrance  of  her  daughter. 

"  What  shall  I  do  with  the  girl?"   she  thought,  "now 
Thàt  Joïn  is  dèàd.  àiid,  Joàn's  boor  bf  a  husband  dôéfiiôr 
want  her.    H«  wfll  be  sending  her  to  me  one  of  thèse  dayi 


-TÏ1 
C 


V,.. 


■i 


r^ 


r 


"4-'J 


,..tÊé^-- 


1 


\ 


\^  • 


"M- 


320 


r 


^oAwr^ 


~\ 


tf  I  do  not  take  car#»      t  ~.    .       "^  ^        y- 

rose-curtMned  bed  wS.n7k  ™  '"^  <9>d  lioen  of  th» 

impossible' to  ™o„SfïhiT''*"lr°«"»-y'>ng-.e  wa, 
Wy  wieh  him,  who  insisted  S  w      ™'>  »°d  a  young 


Canttbe  possible  M.  isïfreS^-^.?^^^^^^      J°^'«  writiog  i 
but  the  dusfc  co^plxioTL  i"f  ^'  ^^^^  ^o  >Srn  Lie 

woman  on  her.     "Sh?w  l^r^p^fc^^^,«3^«s  of  the  waiting 
*^^"ng;  I  way  needyou^'  ^  ""^  *'"*'^'  «"^  ^a«  un- 

thr^nj^^rssllï^^^^  Felicia, 

Jerfeet  into  slippil  Lt  A,wn  t."'«''^.™t^*  ^^  thrusting 
daughter,  ^^   ^  ^'  ^^'^^  *«>  a^ait  the  advent  of  her 

■It  WaS  tWO  o'clorlr       mk-*         t  ^ 

Dénnison,  of  all^enT  wJaTdST  '°"".'  «"^  ^'^^  Teny   ' 
p-1  corne  to  be  in  Paris  at  aîl  fnH "w^^u^    «°«^  ^id  the 
her,  now  that  she  waThere  ?    ^lî  ^^?  ''^^^^'^  «'^^  ^o  ^ith 


î'i 


'^'^:f-k 


ssr 


ffîfe,«: 


■■:r%i 


DONNY. 


321 


«onate  CTeatare,  whom  lovealone  could  rule,  upon  whoni  dif 

îST«ia%  s«d  "lia  "^  "^'"^  'T^^  nbwïz  t 

«kJ J«  ^u  u    if   T.  .^"^  "°^  s^«  ''as  hère.     Whajt  slumlà 
inn    No  ï^*""' ^  ^^  ''^^  trutheeached  the  ears  of  Di  Ve^r 

win  the  girl  over  by  kmdness,  by  pretence,of  affection,  and 

And  then  the  dooropened,  and  Pauline  ushered  her  ih 
I^ot^"  «stant  there  was  silence  while  mother  and  dauSiter  ' 

Se~S,e  m^h^r  •^'""-    ^  ''^'l  *^*'"«  contrastTer" 
maoe—the  mother  m  her  mature  and  well  preserved  hMiifi/ 

faSt  L  '^?^^  ^^'"8  indôlently  back  inher  cha&,  th§^-' 
lamphght  àtreammg  across  her  rich  dark  beauty.  '  The 
<^ughter  dAggled  and  wet,  her  black  haird^Sed    he!    « 

"Corne  hère,  child,"  sàid  the  soft  silky  tones  of  Felicia. 

«nJ  on^;^'**^''*"?^'  **^''^*'^  *ha'  half-shy,  half<kfiant  air     ' 
and  attitude  ready  to  be  humble  or^fierceat  aiiioriien?»- 
notice.     Madame  stretched  forth  her  hand.  drew  her  to  heV 
and  kissed  her  cold,  thin  cheek.  ^^' 

"  You  are  Gordon  Kennedy  ?" 

"  And  you  are  my  mother  1  "  Z" 

T^f^nMî'fi'^LÎ^  answer  with  a  certain  défiance  stiU-pre-" 
paredtofightforhernghtstothe  death.  *      ^ 

secre?"and  mil  ^  m""^  "^'^  ^^  ?  """^  ^  "'^  '^  yo«      ' 
secret  and  mme.    No  one  knows  it  hère— no  one  niust 

rnoTaï^^tr-^     '  '^^  *^"*^^  ^°«  ago.'^^ttu 
herc.»  ^  ^^"'^  ^  '"'°''  '  J°*"  '"^  "^  eveiythlng.    Look 

„r?î;^  ï^^^  VP  .^f  8Ï«ve,  and  showâd  on  the  upiier  part 
ofherannUiemitials"G.C."inIndiaink.  •   *      ^ 

TOtfsent  her  awày  and  did  it  yoursel£"  /«"«=««»^ 


^i 


1'- 


A 


£' 


------—.  -..»,  «uu  utu  H  yourseii. 

I  remember  vety  wdl,"  Felicia  aaid»  stiU  saMling,  stiU-* 


i^Sid.j  *ai  <■  <        .   ,  ^  .,.1        T,""^SW>    .^i' 


;y 


Lr>.  'i 


# 


% 


(fi* 


r 


é   ■ 


■|. 


hjMiDg  the  girPs  cold  hand.     «  My  child,  how  chill  you  are 
J^ir      li^^'^'  "'  *^°*"V  °"  ^'^'^  hassockand  tell  me  how 

ana  m  charge  of  Mr.- Penniso«"  '         ' 

Gordon,  Kennedy  obeyed.     The  défiance  was  Rraduallv 

îSvenSe  oHhf  n.7t''*'°^""'  ^^^^'^'^^  ^»»*^  -^^-^  •^^ 
^.V^^'*3  rSÎÎT   Glasgow,"  she  said,  boldly.     «Joan 

open      It  f^  a  hotnd  gash^'  said  this  young  virago,  with  a 

then,  and  I  came  hère..  I,  had  some  money  ;  Joan  gavéit 
?aTLx>^^  some  yet,  and  might  hâve  taken^  câb  when 
1  got  to  Pans  as  well  as  not,  and  gone  to  your  théâtre,  but 
I  aS  7'^  '?^''"«^î  and  dazzlfng,  the  shops  so  sple^didr 
I  thought  I  would  walk.  I  was  a  fool  for  my  pains  I 
^  t  know  what  would  hâve  happened,  only  Mr.  Dçnnison 
came.  Ah,  I  hke  Atm~he  was  awfuUy  good  " 
w.l^"î  '""S^^'  surely,  child^^you  did  ndt  tell  him  who  you 

7^tL    '"r^.'î'^  "*«^<*'>"  *^<>"'or,  as  she  listeiied  to  this  out- 
«poken  confession..  -* 

«I  told  him  ^nothing,"  Gordon  answered,  proudly.  "onlv 
my^name,  and  where  I  came  from,  and  how  I  got  lôst,  and 
that  I  Mranted  to  find-you.  He  said  he  knew  you,  aud  would 
take  me  to  yOu,  and  hère  I  am." 

"It  is  thè  most  éxtraordinary  thing  I  ever  heard  of "  • 

■  JJi      '  ""♦  certainly  not.    Why,  child,  will  you  be  anjrrv 
jnth^me,  your  own  mother?"  madame  said,  m  her  sugarest 

«,J!iy**"^°°''  ^?°y  ""^^  S^^  *<>  see  me,  if  you  are  my 
«nothyr,"  retorts  Miss  Kennedy,  sulkUy^  ^       «c  my  . 


~^You  hâve  surorised  me  sotouch;  don'tyou  se^andj  ' 


î  - 


:•■'./■ 


*. 


DONNY, 


m 


don't  want  ît  known  that  you  ar^  my  daughter.     It  would  be 
a  veiy  bad  thing  for  me,  And  croate  no  eig4  bf  talk." 

"  You  are  gshamed  of  me,  I  suppose  ?  "  the  young  girl 
cried.  "  I  knew  you  would  be.  You  are  a  fine  lad/,  aud  I 
am— yes,  look  at  me.  I  am  a  misérable,  draggle-tailed  oli- 
ject,  am  I  not  ?  "         ' 

"What  a  temper  you  hâve,"  raadanie  said,  still  smiling, 
still  holding  her  hands.  "  Don't  speak  so  loudly.  I  aiîi  not 
in  the  least  ashamed  of  you.  Propejrly  dressed  yoù  will  be 
quite  like  me." 

The  black  eyes  Ht.  -^V         %| 

"  Do  you  think  so,"  eagetty  ;  "  JoatTàl^ays  said  l  was  like 
you,  but  you  are  so  beautiful,  and  J  am  so  thin,  and  blâck, 
and  pale.     You  wil)  let  me  stay  with  you,  then,  will  you  ?  " 

"Certainly— that  is  for  the  présent.  I  think  I  shall  send 
you  to  school.  You  would  like  to  go  to  school,  would  you 
not,  Gordon.-   By  the  bye,  I  would  rather  nqt  call  you  that." 

"  Joan  called  me  Donny."  . 

"  Donny  be  it,  then.  I  will  dress  you  properly- and  send 
you  to  school,  and  you  are  not  to  say  a  word— no,  not  a 
whisper — about  our  relationship.  You  can  keep  a  secret,  I 
think,  by  your  face." 

"Try  me,"  the  girl  said,"proudly.  "  Fd  die  before  l'd  tell, 
if  I  promiséd  not." 

"  And  you  do  promise.  It  would  never  do  for  me,  Donny, 
at  least  not  just  yet,  to  acknowledge  you.  People  hère  do 
not  know  I  ever  was  married."^ 

"If  you  wish  it— yes,  I- promise,"  the  girl  said,  a  wistful 
light  m  the  great  eyes.  , 

"Then  for  the  présent  you  shall  remain  hère— for  afew 
days,  that  is.  You  shall  sleep  in  niy  dressing-room,  and  I 
will  tell  my  maid  and  the  rest  that  you  are  niy  cousin — ^yes, 
a  cousin  fromScotland.  And  now,  as  it  is  late,  andhav« 
heen  travelling  and  are  tired,  I  wiltsee  you  safely  in  bed 
myself?'  '  '         aJ 

"  And  may  I  see  him  again— the  gentleman  who  was  «i»  ' 
ll°g^to  nate?"  the  girl  asked,  onjy  half  saasfied  after  ail.    — ^ 

"Mr.  Dennison?    Oh,  well— yes— I  suppose  so.    Tell 


•iH 


/ 


•-\,^-fi 


*v,- 


% 


Um,youf  are  a  dousin,  and  I  will  iodorse  your  stora.' 


'if4^ 


\'Sf'Ç.^Sf^^^'4 


% 


imt^ 


's 


....y  1    ' 

'"«m^T '^  "t  ws-fj-    ^f«^  ».  .«93.'  ,tj-  y  jy  Tat. 


...  •  :  (  ^  i-' 


5V        * 


324 


PiWNY. 


«I  hâte  lelling  lies,"  Donny  muttered,  rather  suUenlv  •  h.,i 
madame  prudently  took  no  notice     In  STr  ™      -^i   u 

*.nHîn„^  y  *  ''^''y  unexpected  and  rather  disai?reeable 
must  L  mt Jï'r"î """r «•  Contretemps  will  Sr^aSd 
ïhei  we^în  the  folf  f^-  ^t?"™"  had'reached  tha   âge 


€ 


T 


> 


•V-~.     *  "713 


-^^V, 


"'.^^^/•^«■^J 


4^:y' 


CHAPTER  V. 


WHAT  LOVE'S  YOUNO  DRSAM  SOMmMES  COMES  10. 

|T  is  twelve  o'clock,  more  or  less,  by  ail  the  docks 
and  watches  of  Paris— high  nooii  by  the  broad 
brightness  which  is  pouting  a  flood  of  golden 
light  through  the  blue  silk  curtains,  over  the  glass, 
and  silver,  and  china  of  a  dainty  breakfast-table  set  for  two, 
over  two  blonde  English  heads— Lord  and  Lady  Dynely. 

They  are  breakfasting  tête-à-tête,  and  in  profound  silence. 
Hi«  lordship  hides  a  very  sulky,  dissatisfied  and  conscioui 
face,  behiûd  that  day's  Moniteur.  Her  ladyship,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  big  shining  urn,  droops  over  her  teacup, 
pale  as  the  dainty  cashmere  robe  she  wears,  with  blue  eycs 
that  look  jaded  and  duU  from  want  of  sieep.  She  has  not 
slepf  ail  nigîit,  and  it  tells  upon  her  not  used  to  "  tears 
o'  nfght  instead  of  slumber.**  In  the  garish  nioming  sun- 
shine,  the  prétty  little  face  looks  wofully  wan  and  pite- 
oas,  poor  child,  and  lie  sees  it  ;  how  can  he  fail  to  see  it, 
and  is  in  a  fine  rage  with  her  and  with  himself  in  conséquence. 
No  words  hâve  passed  between  them'conceming  last  night 
—no  words  as  yet.  That  pleasant  conjugal  debate  is  still  to 
corne.  He  had  found  her  feigning  sleep,  the  tears  undried 
upon  her  cheeks,  so  peachily  plump  only  five  weeks  ago 
— then  like  the  heatt  of  a  blush  rose— now  paler  than  the 
palest  lily.  This  moming  only  monosyllables  hâve  been  ex- 
changed,  but  the  tug  of  war  is  to  come,  and  although  he 
dreads  it  horribly— as  he  4reads  and  hatea  ail  things  unpleas- 
ant  to  his  own  super-fastidious  selfishnes»— fais  lordship 
\\aow%  down  the  paper  at  last  and  begins. 
«*  I  wippoBe>  '  hfi  jayi^ja^a^  yoicft  ixe  Mer  not- ta-xeodet^ 


^Msh,  but  «iiich  tf,    "  I  suppose  you  know  Dennison  cam» 
last  night  ?    Ck>nfounded  meddling  prig  !    l  sv^poie  yoa 


4f 


4"H 


S 


\^ 


Kt- 


f#. 


326     ftrffATLOyrs  YOUNG  DREAM  COMES  TO. 

know,  or  will  know,  he  foUowed  me,  and  tried  to  play  par- 
son  for  my  benefit.  I  wonder  now  I  did  not  knock  him 
down  for  his  impertinence-I  will,  by  Jove,  if  he  tries  it  again. 
1  liope,  Crystal,  you  did  not  send  him  ?" 
-  She  shrinks  and  shiyers  away  at  his  tone— at  his  words. 
«e  sees  it,  and  the  stmg  of  remorse  that  follows  and  tella 

K.  '    *'''^? 'S  *  ^'^je»  hardly  tends  to  add  to  his  good-humor. 

^  '  r*''  y°"  ^^^  •*^'»  ?    he  angrily  repeats. 

She  hfts  her  eyes  for  an  instant  to  his  irritated  face,  then 

.i^  ?ff       *?''  shnnking  into  herself  more  and  more. 

^'  u  *jr  ^^"i.Jî°  °"^'"  ^*^^  'answers,  in  a  voice  sô  lowas  to  be 

;  nardly  audible. 

L*       '       ♦»,«  ^u'''"  S"*^  ^^.^'  '"  *  gnimbling  tone.    «  You  sa^  him 
%^  though.     Hewashere?"  .  ^ 

fc  "  He  was  hère — yes." 

ê      "'  '   i  t'A  ^°^,^'^  *e  ^^^"^  SO  well  where  to  find  me  then  ?     I 

Il  y  V°",î  "^^^  8°'"S  ^^  <^'°e  ^"'i  some  fellows  at  the  Caft 

w;^  ue  "ans.    . 

Ti,"  ^^l  ^?"  .*°'^  '?^"  '^^  repeats,  in  the  same  faint  voice. 
1  hen  she  look?  suddenly  up  at  him  and  her  blue  eyes  flash. 

'^  uV^'i!-  *°  ^^^  *^^^*''^'  ^"^'"  she  says,  boldly. 

t  ^«  7f°f^^~L'  'P  astounded  is  Lord  Dynely  that  the'last 

^  Word  fails  on  his  lips. 

;„  *i  ^**  ?f  theatre—yes,"  Crystal  goes  on  quickly  and  gasp- 
mgly     «1  wanted  to  go~it  wasn't  his  fault,  poor  fellowJl . 
asked  him  to  take  me—I  made  him  take  me." 

"And  may  I  ask,"  says  his  lordship,  with  labored  polite- 
ness,  and  turningquite  white  with  anger,  "  which  théâtre  you 
honored  with  your  préférence  ?    £gs  Italiens,  no  doubt  ?  " 

We  went  to  the  Varieties.     We  saw  that  woman.     We 
sawyo»,'  she  answers  in  the  same  gasping  tone. 

His  hps  set  themselves  with  slow,  intense  anger— his  blue 
eyes  gleam  with  a  dangerous  light. 

T  *A  ^^  ^7  /^  womân  I    Be  more  explicit,  if  you  please, 

Lady  Dynely.     You  saw  what  woman  ?  "      ^      '      »'        ' 

"That  actress.    That  wicked,  painted,  dancing  woman. 

And  we  saw  you.    You  threw  her  the  flow«»rft  T 


She  wore  them  ih  her  bain    Ànd  then  you  ^^ITSb  box 


•f 

♦ 


IVJlAr  LOVETS  YOUNG  DREAM  COMES  TO.     327 

But  Crystal  can  say  no  more..  At  the»  recollection  of 
his  looks  as  he  bent  over  that  woman,  she  breaks  utterly 
down,  covers  her  face  and  bursts  into  passionate  weepjng. 

He  is  white  to  the  lips  now-^white  wîth  an  anger  that  has 
soniething  quite  deadly  in  it.  She  is  his  bride  but  six  weeks, 
and  she  sits  yonder  ^obbing  her  heart  eut,  but  he  never  soft- 
ens  or  relents.  Who  is  to  gange  for  us  <Jf  the  capabilities  of 
evil  that  are  within  us?  AU  his  life  Lord  Dynely  had  been 
taken  by  superficial*observers  for  a  kind-hearted  gentleman, 
free  of  hand  and  larçe  of  heart,  who  would  not  willingly 
injure  a  worm — ail-  his  life  he  had  taken  himself  to  be  a 
good-natured  fellow — tender-hearted,  indeedv  to  a  fault  ;  and 
now  he  sit^watching  his  wife  with  a  glanée  that  is  absolutely  j,^ 
murderoqs.  With  it  ail  he  is  so  astounded  that  it  is  a  mo- 
ment before  he  can  speak. 

"  You  did  this  ?  "  he  says  at  last,  in  a  sloWf  cniel,  sup- 
pressed  sort  of  voice.  "You  played  the  spy  upon  me — 
you  I  You  gave  your  old  lover  the  eue,  did  you — you 
draggcd  him  after  me  to  the  théâtre  to  spy  upon  me.  You're 
a  fool,  Crystal;  and,  by  Heaven,  you'll  live  to  repent 
itl" 

She  gave  a  gasping  cry.  He  ârose  from  his  seat,  flung 
down  his  paper,  and  stood  before  her,  white  with  rage., 

**  It  is  a  thousand  pitiés,"  he  says  with  a  sneer,  that  for  the 
moment  blots  out  ail  the  fair  Greek  beauty  of  his  face,  ?^*  that 
I  did  not  let  you  marry  Dennison.  He's  in  love  with  you 
yet — no  doubt  your  old  penchant  too  is  as  strong  as  ever. 
//  was  not  hisfaulty  poor  fellow.  May  I  ask  where  you  and 
Mr.  Dennison  are  going  together  to-night  ?  " 

She  looks  up  at  him — her  eyes  ail  wide  and  wild,  with  a 
bewildered'sort  of  horror.     Eric  has  insulted  her — insulted 
her.    She  tries  to  speak,  but  only  a  gasping  sound  cornes, 
Something  in  her  eyes — in  her  face  frightens  even  him,  in    . 
'  his  blind  fury,  into  remorse  and  relenting. 

"Don't  look  li^e  that,"  he  says  with  a  strident  sprt  of 
laugh.     '*  I  didn't>quite  mean  what  I  said  ;  but  when  a  man 
4n»  wife  Funning  about  to^  théâtres  iir^is  absence»  withF 


\ 


■^ 


'^. 


"f 


her  old  Idver — Well,  sir  1  what  do  you  war 
For  a  servant  has  entered  with  a  card  upon  a  salver,  and 


riiisTi 
w^t  ?  " 


"ira 


.;    Si»'    •  i 


4" 


•  •.*■»« 


^l^,^^i^-%-  <^^^%"^^^^^^^^ïl^f fl^^#^ 


kC 


"A 


A 


'4 


f;^- 
•■«&"' 


328     ««^T-  ZOyrS  YOVNG  DREAM  COMES  TO. 

STSïtLLSi*'""    Lord  Dyndytakesitup  and  utter. 
_  «Miss  France  Forrester I"    he  exdaims.      "The  plot 

«iv?»\    V^^'^'  ^Tl  *^'  »^  t^y?      Where  is  Ae 
lady  ?»  he  demands  of  the  man. 

.  "  In  the  salon,  my  lord." 

«  Very  well,  tpU  her  we  wiU  be  there  io*  moment."  The 
man  salaams  and  départs.  .«  Go  to  vour  roôm,  CiystaL"  he 
sây^  less  harshly  ;  «  and,  for  HeavA's  sake  try  and  «t  rid 

KÎ"'f^^!fS:•  Jfo"  look  «ke  a  galvanized  corpl     You  w  il 
hâve  theni  thmking  hère  I  adopt  the  good  old  British  custom  o 
beating  my  wife.    Put  on  rouge-^nything~«el  vour  maid 

France V"*^?^"\'"'^'  thatWbUflJ^iSce  to 
France  Forrestei^s  sharp  eyes." 

With  this   pleasant  and  bridegroom  like  adjuration  .he 

eaves  her  and  goes  to  the  salon  Xo  receive  their ^sL     He 

is  humming  a  popular  Parisian  street  song  as  he  goes,  a  haU 

smile^n  his  hps,  ail  his  old  sunny  debonnaie  self  ?^e  more  : 


w,^" 

f 


**  Ma  mère  est  à  Paris. 
Mon  p^re  est  à  Versailles, 
Et  moi  je  suis  ici, 
Pour  dûnter  sur  la  paille—'* 


he  sings  a»  he  enters.  France  sits  in  agréât  nibvvelvet 
chau-    chaniiîngly   dressed.  looking   fresh^   fW    mor« 

fl?X"  M/1  /t^Tu^'®**'"^*  bnghten  as  they  take  their 
flight.  fVAat  did  he  see  in  his  faded,  fiasse/,  uallid  littl.. 
wife  to  prefer  her  to  this  brUliant,  darkCuty  ?    For  my 

Ln  Wh?n  5?H  J*  ^"^^^  ^**?  '^'^  «^^^«»  but  not  so 
soon.    When  dïd  you  amve,  and  where  are  ySa  locatod  ?  " 

FaZurS;*^» '"  ^'  ''•«'^^^"^  haveapSents  S  the' 


à    \ 


tmame^  In»  th.  ri*  o/toding  J»  «Ul^ïï^lïï  ™tad 


Jt.. 


'%ili 


ps»^'-' 


WHAT  LOI^SS  YOUNG  DREAM  COMES  TO. 


329 


ftway  immediately  after  breakfast,  Ypu  ate  up,  J  see,  for 
which,  oh,  bé  thankful.    And  now  where  is  Crystal  ?" 

"  Crystal  will  be  hère  in  a  moment.  IJow  well  you  are 
looking,  France,"  he  says,  half-regretfully  ;  "being  in  love 
must  be  agréât  beaptifier — better  than  ait  Mftdame  Rachel's 
cosmetics." 

"  Must  be  I  "  she  laughs  ;  "  yoû  don't  knot^r  from  experi- 
eàce  then  ?  I  can  return  the  compliment-^you  are  looking 
as  if  life  went  well  with  you — 

"  His  'and  was  free,  bis  meam  «£»  eaqr» 
A  finer,  nobler  gent  than  he,, 
Ne'er  rode  along  the  shons  Eleésy, 
Or  paced  the  Roo  de  Rivolee  !" 


.Sf"! 


•0 


quotes  France,  aftçr  her.old  fashion  ;  "but  then,  of  course, 
we  are  in  the  height  of  our  honeymoon,  and  see  ail  things 
through  spectacles  couleur  de  rose." 

Eric  laughs,  but  rather  grimly.  He  is  thiûking  of  the 
honeymoon-like  tête-à-tête  her  coming  ended. 

"  And  how  are  they  ail  ?  "  he  inquires— "  the  Madré  and 
Mrs.  Caryll  ?    Mrs.  Caryll  is  hère,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Grandmamma  is  hère — ^yes.  And  better  than  you  ever 
saw  her.  And  your  mother  is  well  and  dying  ïo  see  you, 
and  how  matrimOny  agrées  with  you.  Do  you  know,  Eric," 
laughing,  **I  can't  fancy  you  in  the  rôle  oi  Benedick  the 
married  man." 

He  laughs  too,  but  it  is  not  a  vbry  mirthful  laugh. 

"  Caryll  is  with  you  ?  "  he  says,  keeping  wide  of  his  own 
conjugal  bliss  ;  "  Of  course  he  is,  though— lucky  fellow  I  I 
needn't  ask  ifyleis  well?"    - 

"You  need  not,  indeed,"  France  says,  and  into  herfacça 
lovely  rose  light  comes  ;  "  but  you  will  soon  see  for  yourselt 

-they  will  ail  call'  later.     What  does  keep  Crystal — I  hop6 
is  not  so  silly  as  to  stay  and  make  an  elaborate  toilet 
me?" 

"No,  no--«he  will  be  down  in  a  moment.    She  has  a 
niwtuBcne  "  I8  ratncr  secoy  tnis  inomttig'g'-late  itotirs  "and  dt8*= 
,  iipaiion  will  tell  on  rustic  beauty,  fan  know.    By  the  by^ 
mptoçoê  of  nothingi  do  you  know  Terrjr  Deoniaon  it  iiçare^ 


^1.  V 


I  . 


«ilS-lBîiitr^/»|çi.v£i^  •  "  Àj^^M:..». 


'%ï 


"   <: 


't, 


W    ,5 


1 
I 


*      330     WffAT  LOVeS  YOUNG  DREAM  COMES  TO. 

at  this  hôtei?    We  are  quite  a  faniily  party,  you  see,*  he 
laughs  again  rather  grimly.  -   - 

"  Terry  hère  !  dear  old  Terry  I  how  glad  I  shall  be  ta  see 
niin.     Whçn  did  he  get  over  ?  "  „ 

"Last  night  also.  I^  appears  to  hâve  been  a  nîcht  of 
arrivais.    Ah,  hère  is  Crystal  now."         ,     • 

He  looks  rather  anxiously  as  be  says  it.  He  knoïvs  of  old 
how  keen  Miss  Forrester's  haz«l  eyes  are— he  féels  that  she 
has  already  perceived  something  to  be  wrong.  That  she  has 
heard  nc^thing  he  is  quite  sure.  Her  nianner  would  certâijily 
not  be  so  frankly  natural  and  cordial  if  one  whisper  of  the 
truth  ha^  reached  her.  ',  •   ' 

Crystal  has  done  her  best  She  has  exchanged  her  white  " 
wrapper  for  a  pink  one  that  l.ends  a  faint,  fictitious  glow  to 
her  face.  The  suggestion  about  rouge  she  has  not  adopted 
^rougî,  Crystal  looks  upon  as  a  device  of  the  evil  one. 
Something  almost  akin  to  gladness  lights  her  sad  eyes  as  she 
'  cornes  forward  and  into  France's  wide,  open  arms. 

-  "My  dear  Lady  Dyoely  1  My  dear  liitle  Crystal  !"  and 
then  France  stops  and  sendsher  quick  glanée  from  her  face 
tb  Enc's,  and  reads  trouble  without  a  second  look.  She  is 
honestly  shocked,  and  takes  no  pains  to  hide  it. 
i  Eric  winces.  Hai  Crystal  so  greatly  changed  then  for  the 
worse  ?  AU  his  selâsh,  unreasoning  anger  stirs  again  within 
hun. 

"Vou  hâve  been  ill?"  she  says,  blankly.  "Yqu— you 
look  wretchedly."  -, 

«  t"  ^  î?^  ^°"  ^^^  ^^  *  headache,"  Eric  interrupts,  irritably. 
»  I  told  you  laté  hours  and  Paris  dissipation  will  tell  upoti 
nistic  beauty.  There  is  nothing  the  matter.  Open  your 
hps,  oh,  silent  Crystal  !  and  reassure  Miss  Forrester." 

"  I  ara  quite  well,  thank  you,"  Crystal  says,  but  no  effort 
can  make  the  words  other  thaij  faint  and  mournful.  Then 
she  sits  down  wilh  her  face  frôm  the  light,  and  leans  back  in 
her  great  carved  and  gilded  chair,  looking  so  sniall,  and  fra- 
gile, and  childish,  and  colorless  that  a  great  compassion  for 
her^and  a  great,  yagug  yrâth  agaiost  him^^  Ffanee's  heagti:^ 


ipie  does  not  know  what  he  has  done,  but  she  knows  hehas 
done  something,  and  is  wroth  accordingly.    Why,  the  child 


T    . 


^^v  .l^,._,^^ 


I*î«.'^»t>» 


K, 


-,  X 


WHAT  LOVES  YOVNG  DREAM  COMES  TO.     331 

has  gone  to  a  shadow — looks  utterly  crashed  and  heart- 
broken.  Is  he  tired  of  her  already  ? — is  he-«-but  no,  that  is 
too  bad  to  think«even  of  fickle  Eric — ^he  cannot  be  neglect- 
ing  her  for  a  rival. 

Her  cordial  manner  changes  at  once — a  constraint  has 
fallen  upon  them.  Ail  Eric's  attenipts  at  badinage,  at  society 
sinall  talk,  fall  flat.  He  rises  at  last,  looks  at  his  watch, 
pleads  an  engagement,  and  prépares  to  go. 

"  I  know  you  and  Crystal  are  dying  to  comp^fre  notes," 
he  says,  gayly,  "and -that  I  am  in  the  way.  Only  Crystal' s 
notes  will  be  brief,  1  wam  you,  France  ;  she  hâs  not  your' 
gift  of  tongne.  Lady  Dynely  is  the  living  exemplification  of 
the  adage  that  speech  is  silver,  and  silence  is  gold." 

l'Shaïl  you  be  in  when  your  mother  and  Gordon  call, 
Eric  ?  "  France  asks,  rathe%coldly.  "  If  not,  I  am  commis- 
sioned  to  tender  an  impromptu  invitation  to  dine  with  Mrs. 
Caryll." 

"  Awfully  sorry,"  Eric  answers,  "  but  we  stand  pledged  to 
dîhe  at  the  Embassy.  /must  put  in  an-  a|()pcarance,  whether 
or  no,  and  Crystal  will  also — headache  permitting.  Crystal 
rather  shrinks  from  heavy  dinner  parties  and  goes  nowhere." 

"  I  thought  late  hours  and  '  Paris  dissipation  were  telling 
on  her,"  retorts  France,  still  coldly.  And  Eric  laughs  and 
goes,  with  a  last  severe,  Wàftting  glance  at  his  wife — a  ^nce 
which  says  in  its  quick  blue  flash  :  . 

"Tellifyoudarel" 

It  is  a  neëdless  warning — Crystal  has  no  thought  of  telling 
-rof  complaining  of  him  to  any  one  on  earth.  She  lies  back 
in  her  big  chair,  herlittle  hands  folded,  silent  and  pale,  while 
the  sounds  of  ringing  life  reach  them  from  the  bright,  gay 
boulevard  belo^,  and  the  jubilant  sunlight  fills  the  room. 

•♦How  thin'you  hâve  grown,  Crystal,"  France  says  at  last, 
vefy  gently.  "  Paris  does  not'  agrée' with  you  I  thmk.  Wo 
jnust  make  Eric  takq-you  hôm^  to  Dynely." 

Her  eyes  light  eagerly — something  like  color  cornes  into 
the  colorless  face.    She  catches  her  breath  hard. 

"^''^      "*  **Tfiie  on^y  wouidt'*      "  — t - 


*iAun 


/Il 

#-' 

'  ''Ma 


'*>*!» 
Wf 


413 


Fran^  ià  watching  lier  intently. 
** Yottdon't  like  Paris,  then ? " 


iè>*'K.\.j±}-  •-7,1  .,* 


-/^.  >^    >   irJV 


i"-5  ' 


V>' 


J 

If: 


i^^^è^" 


r.V' 


j 


»  333     WHATLOVes  YOVm  DREAM  COMBS  TO. 

^^^^«Likeitl"  thegentleeyes  for  an  instant  flash.     «rhat< 

"  Do  you  go  eut  mach ?"  she  asks. 

V'No-yes."     CrysUl  faltera.      She  hardly  knows  which 

a^swer  to  make  in  W  fear  of  committing  Eric     «î  don-ï 

care  to  go  out-dmner  partie»  art  a  hore^i  never  was  us^d 

to  much  Society,  you  knovr,  at  home."  ^ 

,,^*™  afraid  you  must  be  very  lonely.» 

'  and  ?he;.lric!î!" '"~"°'  '''^'    ^  ^^^^  *"^  P^^3^~*  «^«^ 

feî2.KJS'"''°'^^u^'^*''''  ^'  "«**'  *'"*'°ed  to  the  telling  of 
falsehoods,  and  the  trutlj  Tshe  cannot  tell.  \ 

nJ.^îf'"  î^"^"*"^  says  quietly,  "Eric  is  out  agréât  deal 
nahirally_he  is  not  a  domestic  oian  ;  Ijut  once  you  retum 
to  Dynely-aU  that  will  Bechanged.  We  must  try  and  dÏS 
vailupon  him  to  take  you  home  at  once.  '  ^ 

^    uf  i*?-^ù"^  ^y^^  8»ve  her  a  grateful  glance.    Then  a 
troubled,  frightened  look  cornes  in^  them. 

-iiÛK^  u  ^'^^P^^'i^P*  5'°"''*^  bcitiër  not,"  she  says;  «he 
di  "tateS  tr  Se  ,1L''^Ï«-*^  ^"^  *"^  «^^  <=*°°«'  be'ar'  to  £e 
h'iWged  to  goV^"'  "^""^^  *"  ~^"  '^  ''"^  *-  *"«^  « 
«  We  can  survive  that  calamity,"  Miss  Forrester  answers 
cymcally  ;  «  and  your  health-and,  yes,  I  will  «y  it-bTpS 
neSs,ar€thcthingstobeconsiderédfirst."      ^       ^^ 

"i^de^d\Z**^^iS^'"'^''fivT***'  i°  "^"  increasing  alarm, 
i^eed  I  am.    How  could  I  be  otherwise  so  soon  ?  " 

.innîfJJ?'*"  ''^'**  -^'^^^  ^^-    France  looks  at  her  in 
unutterable  compassion.  \iî 

rhiiln"'  w® î  'î^*^^ '  "  '*''  ans'^*»^  " you  poor  little  pale 
^L^^"'  ^  T"  «o-».heyreaUy  don't  know  where  I 
am,  and  we  are  aU  to  go  sight-seeing  to  the  Luxembourir 
Do  corne  with  us,  Çrystal  ;  fou  lookli  --  -     ««oou/g: 


16* 


But  Lady  Dynely  shakes  her  snaUl,  fiûr  Ji^d, 


i^p  ^V'fgç*-. 


^^1 


'r0 


WHAT  LOVES  YOUlfG  DREAM  COÉiES  TO.     333 

"  I  cannoV  she  says.  "  Eric  may  return,  and  be  vexed 
to  find  me  oUt," 

"  Eric  1  Eric  1  "  thinks  France,  intolerantly  ;  "  I  khould 
like  to1x)xEric'sears!"  ^      '    . 

"  Beçides,  sight-seeing  tires  me,"  Crystal  goes  on,  with  a 
wan  little  smile,  "and  I  don'f  think  I  care  for  pictures. 
We  visited  the  Luxemboug,  and  th«r  Louvre,  and  the^Tuile- 
ses,  and  ail  the  rest  of  the  show  places,  when  we  first  came,' 
and  I  remember  I  was  ill  ail  day  with  headache  after  them. 
I  like  best  to  stay  at  home  and  read — indeed  I  do." 

France  sighs. 

"  My  little  Crystal  I    But  you  will  be  lonely.'* 

"  Oh,  no.  Eric  may  corne  to  luncheon— he  often  does — 
and  Terry  will  drop  in,  I  dare  say,  by  and  by.  You  know 
Terry  is  hère  ?  "  interrogatively. 

"  Yes  ;  Eric  told  me.  .  I  wish  I  could  take  you  with  me 
ail  the  same,  little  one.  I  hâte  tô  leave  you  hère  in  this 
hôtel  alone.  It  is  a  sh^toe^l— a  shame  I  "  says  France,  in 
her  hot  indignation. 

But  Crystal  lifts  a  pained,  piteous  face.  " 

"Pleasedon't  «peak  like  that,  France.  It  is  ail  right," 
she  says,  with  a  little  gksp  ;  "1 — I  prcfer  it." 

"  Do  comfiij:.  France  persists,  unheedingjy.  "  We  will 
lèave'yofl'ith^e  with  grandraamma  Caryll,  while  we  do  the 
sight-seeing.  You  will  love  her,  Crystal— she  is  the  dearest, 
best  old  lady  in  Europe.  Then  we  will  din&comfortably  to- 
gether,  en/àmitte,  and  go  to  the  Varieties  in  the  evening,  to 
gee  this  popular  actress  Paris  raves  about — Madame  Felicia." 

But,  to  France's  surprise,  Crystal  suddenly  withdraws  her 
ftands  and  looks  up  at  her  with  eyes  that  absolutely  flash. 

"  I  will  never  go  to  the  Varieties  1  "  she  cries  ;  "  I  will 

never  go  to  see  Madame  Felicia  !    She  is  4  wicked,  wicked 

,  woman,  and  I  hâte  her  1" 

.  She  is  trembling  from  l^ead  to  fpot  i^lith  nervous  passi&n  as 

«he  says  it.    France  stands  petrified.    Then  ail  in  an  in- 

•tont  Crystal  recoUects  herself,  and  piteously  clasps  her 


OaSk  • '■ — —^ ~ '— — 

"I  did  nol  mean  to  say  that  1"  she  cries;  "it  is  very 
rong  of  me.    Please  don't  think  anything  of  my  ançy 


wrong 


■  ^-^i^.-^^.^. 


^kt"^^ 


334     WfiMT-  LOy£'S  YOUNG  DSBAM  €OMES  TO. 
words— I  did  not  mean  anytljing  by  them— indeed  I  dùl 

France  stoops  and  kisses  her  as  a  sister  might,  holdine 
her  close  for  a  moment;  and  a  little  sob  she  cannot  wIiqU? 
re^ress  breaks  from  the  poor,  jealous  child,  as  she  lays  her 
neaaon  Prance's  breast.  '  ^ 

"Mydarlinjg,"  France  whispers,  in  that  warm  kiss,  "keeu 

yp  heart     Enc  shall  tafe  you  out  of  this  wicked,  tiresome' 

.  Pans  before  the  week  ends,  or  I  will  know  the  reason  why " 

,         Ihen,  with  profoundest  pity  for  this  poor  little  girl  bride. 

«  i?3  ?**■  °^"  *^^y'*  pleasuring  totally  spoiled.         -       \ 

This  is  what   Eric's  love-match  cornes  to,"  she  think 

.    Mdly.     «Ah,  poor  little  Crystall 

••  *  I  bave  lived  and  loved—bnt  that  was  to-day  ; 
Ga  bring  mè  mj  grave-dothesto-monow.'  »» 


%.i*- 


■  ■'  i 


CHAPTER  VI. 

AT  THE  VARIETIlB. 

|T  is  -lose  upon  luncheon  hour  when  Miss  Forrester 
.fetums  to  the  Faubpurg  St.  Honore.  As  she  enters 
the  drawing-rooni,  still  in  her  street  (fress,  she  sees 
her  lover  sitting  in  an  arm  chair  by  the  open  win- 
dow,  smoking  a  cigar,  .and  immersed  in  the  art  criticisms  of 
.the  Hevue  des  Deux  Mondes.  He  throii^  down  the  paper" 
and  looks  at  her  with  lazily  loving  eyes.  Happiness  and 
prosperity  certainly  agrée  with  him — as  Gordon  Caryll,  the 
accepted  suitor  of  Miss  Forrester,  he  looks  ten  years  yoiinger 
than  did  Mr.  Locksley,  the  impecunious  portrait  paihter. 
Handsomer,  nobler,  France  thinks,  than  ^ir.  Locksley,  it  is 
impossible  for  mortal  man  to  grow. 

"  Well,"  he  says,  "you  hâve  returiied.  My  thoughts  were 
just  tuming  seriously  to  the  idea  of  having  out  the  détective 
police,  and  ofiering  a  reward  for  your  recovery.  Is  it  admis- 
«ble  to  ask,  my  child,  where  you  hâve  been  ?  " 

She  cornes  behind  him,  lays  her  little  gloved  hands  od  his 
shoulders,  and  looks  down  into  the  gravely  smiling  face  rest- 
ing  against*the  chair  back.  They  are  not  démonstrative 
lovexs  those  two,  but  now,  raUiher  to  Mr.  Caryll's  surprise, 
Miss  Forrester  impulsively  stoops  and  leaves  a  kiss  on  his 
forehead. 

"  And  to  think,"  she  says,  drawing  a  tense  sort  of  breath, 
"that  I  tnight  hâve  marria*  him  i"  r      / 

Mr.  Caryll  opens  his  handsome  gray  eyes.  iBoth  the  kiss 
and  the  irrelevant  exclaination  ntke  him  rather  aback.. 

"  You  might  bave  married  him  1  You  might  hâve  mar- 
ried  whom  ?     You  hâve  not  been  proposing  .  to  any  one 


lEraiice?" 
*rA.bout  Eric^t*  sHe^swers,  absently. 


-•^ 


^'/12 


'^ 


.-iKiS 


■"K 


l'If 


'4 


-> 


i, 


-rfr  î^«S   VARIKTIES. 

.\      ■ 
,,       "And  with  the  most  woàbegone  of facest    Melancholv 
has  evidently  niarked  you  for  h^r  own  this  moming.     You 
are  regrettipg  yo<,  threw  Eric  ovèr  for  me-is  that  it,  mj 

"  Nonsense  I  "  ig  France'»  energctic  aqswer.     "  I  hâte  to 

ZUT ^J  r^  f"^^^  '""°.^?  j*^^^'  <^°'^<>"-  Thanlc 
to  do  Lî  K  .  ï'^.  E"<='/^"^^nly-one  coqld  hardly  fail 
ÎL^  V  L  '„^  u'""*^^  ^**  *  ™°^*  thorough-paced  con- 
temp^  for  him  ail  the  same.  And  if  I  had  married  him- 
but  no,  I  never  would,  I  never  could,  if  there  had  been  no 
Cjystal' Hi^ns,  no  Mr  Locksley,  in  the  schéma  of  the  «S? 

[f!*  ,9°™°"' I  hâve  beeii  to  see  them  this  morning.» 
A   A        •î?*^"'5^'  ^y  «'ear,  from  your  very  cnergetic  languaire 
And  you  found  them  well,  I  hope ?"  'anguage. 

tC'^^A    f^*"^"/'  ^'*°c«„«VS.  resentfully ;  «  he  will  be,  to 
the  end  of  the  chapter.     But,  Crystal— " 

"Fof  thebetter?» 

«nnlf°^ï?*''*^?1:  ^^«  »^,t*^'ï  shadow  ofherself-poor  little 
î  IL»  î.  ^  *»ef  t-broken  face  and  voice  haunt  me  like 
a  l^ost    Enc  is  a  brute  I  "     . 

has'&i^oie?^"**'^^"''*"*^^^"*''  are  they  not?  What 

lJ-  '^*^'*  '^nff  wï^thehasdone,"  MissForr^teransweru. 
indignan  y.  «  I  only  know  he  is  breaking  bïs  wi^'g  helS 
l^ltlt^P  "^^  'hnsbandsinvariably  do' ?  IJbSsay  if  ii 

Mr.  Caprli  takes  one  of  the  gtovedhands  aligiires  it  an 
affectionate  httle  squeeze.  —r  »»«»"«» 

«  My  dear  chUd,  don't  excite  yourselC  I  int«ibdtoprove 
Sri? n^*T     Senoudy  Aough,  I  am  vciy  soiTfor  «ttle 

**1isuni>orHy    What  nimori?  I  never  \i*-KtAynH  nHndeKT 


llieni.'' 


R-^' 


J«^î#4-^j*l||^èi 


a&JSI-'j 


h-  "f  I 


■t'iV 


»♦. 


/ 


-ÏT*  ?»K   VARIETIES. 


337 


No  ;  one  does  noï  care  to  talk  about  that  sort  of  thine 
and  I  kîiew  it  would  annoy  you,  and  make  his  mother  un- 
happy  But  as  you  seem  to  be  finding  out  for  yourself,  well 
^l-i  '^^         ^^g\^ci%  the  little  one,  and  runs  about 

w'I^'r  f^^'^'V^e  actressl  Gordon,!  am  sure  ofiti 
With  Fehcia,  the  dancer  I" 

"  With  Felicia,  the  dancer.  But  take  it  calmly,  my  love. 
Howdoyouljnowit?"  '      ^ 

"  I  know  it  from  Ciystal  herself.  That  is  what  she  meant 
Fehcia!"*^  to  corne  with  us  to  the  Varieties  to  see 

"  Ah,  what  did  she  mean  ?" 

'  vJi^  ï?*^   î^  ^""^^^  ^.'^f  V^"eties,  she  hated  Madame 

fk  ^  l  ^^"^^  ^^^  "^^^  *  "^^"^^^^  Painted  woman.    And  you 

«hould  haf'e  seen  those  dove-eyes  ofhers  flash.     Mv  ooor 

dear  httle  Crystal  I  "    The  dark.  impetuous  eyes  ï\\  SeaS 

:     and  fire  with  indignation.     "  Only  six  weeks  married  I  "  she 

^Nfays  passionately.  ,  "Gordon,  I  hâte  Eric." 

.,  'v^'  France  "  he  says  gravely,  "don't  make  yourself 
unhappy  about  this.  Lady  Dynely  must  hâve  known  she  ran 
no  orditvary  nsk  m  marrying  Dynely-the  most  notorious 
maie  flirt  in  Europe.  If  she  had  had  one  grain  of  sensé  in 
that  pretty  flaxen  head  of  hers  she  must  hâve  known  that 
matnniony  Would  work  no  miracles.  A  flirt  he  is  by  nature 
—there  is  not  a  graià  of  constancy  in  histfrhole  composi- 
b°"ii^"    ^  ^^^"^  "^  ^  she,must  abide  by  her 

"Heisabrute  !"  .^ 

"So  you  said  before,"  answers  Mr.  Caryll,  a  half-smUe 
breaking  up  the  gravity  of  his  face.  "  Still,  alîowance  must 
be  made  for  him.  He  has  been  spoiled  ail  his  Ufe—he  has 
never  beéh  thwarted-to  wish  has  béen  to  bave,  and  ladiés 
hâve  petted  and  made  rouch  of  him  for  his  azuré  eyçs,  and 
golden  curls,  and  his  Greek  profile,  ail  his  life  long.  Time 
««j.  cure  him  MeanwhUe,  neither  you  nor  I,  Miss  Forres- 
g^>^" J^elP  Çrystal.  And  theysaythis  FèUcia  playu.  fy 
^'^tpce  wTariier  victimi.""  :;!:m-^unn  iiiayn-^ne- 


'V 


X' 


¥i 


% 


**Have  you  ever  seen  her,  Gordon?" 


-'^^■i 


K't 


if 


1 — - 


;  - 


"^l      ,   f 


338 


^r  7W»   VARIETIES. 


'M\ 


V  "  Nevei.  I  was  too  busy  last  year  when  she  was  at  the 
Bijou,  and  besides,  I  had  an  aversion  to  théâtres  and  théâtre* 
going.     I  sjîall  see  her  to-night,  however." 

"  She  bought  your  picture,  '  KoYt  the  Night  Fell,'  didn't 
she?" 

"Yes.    Di  Venturini  purchased  4t  for  her.    By  the  bye,  I 
promised  at  the  time  a  companion  picture.    They  say  she' s 
to  marry  Di  Venturini  immediately  upon  his  retum  from 
.   Italy." 

.  "  Marify  him  !     TTiat  woiinan  !" 

"  My  dear  France,"  Caryll  says,  laughing,  "  with  what 
stinging  scorn  you  bring  out  tbai  woman  !  There  is  nothing 
said  against  '  that  wj^man  '  except  that  she  is  a  most  outrage- 
ons coquette."  * 

"  But  she  is  a  dancer,  and  he  is  a  prince." 

"That  go^for  nothing.  The  best  blood  of  the  realm 
takes  its  w^fe^Qm  the  stage  in  thèse  days.  I  shouldn't 
fency  it  |By8éï|5i^t  yo"  ^"ow  the  adage,  «  A  bumt  child 
dreads  mï?  fire.*  '^^ . 

"  Po^little  Çàystal  !  "  sighs  France, 

"  Bibor  little  Crystal,  indeed.  Rumor  says  he  is  altogether 
inf)|$uated.  Leii  us  hope  rumor,  for  once,  is  wrong.  Are 
they  coming  to^ dinner  ?" 

„.  ■  »*  No.~    Eric  pleads  a  prior  engagement,  and  she  does  not 
^^»Bf.Ul»bave  hejirt  enough  left  to  go  anywhere.     Hère  is 
.  Lady  Dynely.     By.  the  bye,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  Terry  is  in 
-?faris." 

"  Terry  ?  Terry  Dennison  ?  "  cries  Lady  Dynely,  eagerly  ; 
"is  he,  really.     Whete,  France  ?  " 

"  At  the  Hôtel  du  Louvre.  I  stole  a  march' tïpon  you  this 
moming,  and  made  an  early  call  upoti  the  h^py  pair." 

Her  ladyship's  eyes  Itght  eagerly. 

"  And  you  saw  them  ?    You  saw  Eric  ?" 

"  l'saw  Eric,  mamma." 

"  How  is  he  looking  ?    Will  they  dine  with  us  ?  " 

"  Eric  is  looking  well— never  better.  And  they  dine  at 
the  Embassy  this  evening.    No  doubt,  though,  Eric  will  call." 


"^Here  Hé  fs  how,"  Caryll  inlerrùpts,  lôoluDg  frbin  tfie 
window,  and  France  disappeai,rs  Uke  a  flash.    She  feels  in  no 


it',.*.  '.'   1-r''    ^   l&;.    ^  •.'^      4^        î/     "1 


mood  at  présent  to  meet  and  exchange  pleasant  common- 
placeswith  the  Right  Honorable  the  Lord  Viscount  Dynely. 
^  She  goeî  to  her  room,  throws  oflF  her  bonnet  atid  seal 
jacket,  and  pays  a  visit  to  grandmamma'Caryll,  in  her  own 
apartments.  Paralysis  has  deprived  her  of  the.  use  of  her 
liinbs.  She  sits  in  her  great  invaUd  chair  the  long  days 
through.  But  in  her  handsoroe  old  face  a  look  of  great, 
serene  content  reigns.  • 

The  restless,  longing,  impatient  light  that  foryears  looked 
eut  of  her  eyes  has  gone— she  has  found  what  she  waited 
and  watched  for.  Her  son  is  with  her— France  is  to  be  his 
wife — she  asks  no  more  of  earth. 

The  luncheon-bell  rings.  Mrs.  Caryll's  is  brought  in,  and 
France  descends.  To  her  great  relief,  Eçc  has  gone,  and 
Teny  is  m  his  place.  Terry,  who  is  changed  too,  and  who 
looks  grave  ând  preoccupied. 

"  You  were  at  the  Louvre  this  moming,  France,"  he  says 
to  lier  as  they  sit  side  by  side.     "  You  saw  her  f  " 

"  Yes,  Terry,"  .and  France's  compassionate  eyes  look  at 
him  very  gently.     "  I  saw  her." 

"  And  you  hâve  heard " 

"  Everything— poor  Ifftle  CrystaL  Terry,  Eric  must  take 
her  to  England,  and  at  once." 

"  Ah,  if  he  only  would,"  Terry  says  with  a  sort  of  groan, 
"but  hejvill  not.  That  is  past  hoping  for.  He  is  killing 
her— as  surely  as  ever  man  killed  woman.  And  when  he 
does,"  Terry  sets  his  teeth  like  a  bulldog,  '*my  time  of  reck- 
oning  will  corne." 

"  You  must  accompany  us  this  aftemoon,  Terry,"  Lady 
Dynely  says,  after  the  old  imperious  fashion.  "France  is 
quite  as  much  as  Gordon  is  capable  of  taking  care  of.  J 
want  you." 

Terry  falls  into  the  old  groove  at  once.  In  his  secret 
heart  he  is  longing  to  be  at  the  hôtel  with  Crystal,  to  cheer 
her  m  her  Idneliness;  but  that  maynot  be,  may  never  be 
again.  So  he  sighs  and  goes.  They  spend  the  long,  sunny, 
— ^nog-likft  afternoon  amid  the  Mdns^  Paria,  itndfetemier= 
mne,  and  dress  for  the  théâtre. 

"  The  wbole  duty  of  fwnily  escort  wiU  fiUl  upon  your  vie- 


JJ»M   < 


1- 


.•i*-i;*^^l^iÉtï?^3â^W. 


'-.U: 


340 


AT  THE   VARIETIBS. 


W'^-^.\ 


.timized  shoulders,  Dennison,"  says  M}-.  Cary  11,  looking  up 

from  a  letter  that  the  post  has  brought  him.      "  This  is  a 

note.from  General  McLaren — I  served  under  him  at  the 

beginning  of  the  American  civil  war.     He  is  at  the  Hôtel 

Mirabeau  ;  and  as  he  leaves  Paris  to-morrow,  begs  me  to 

call  upon  him  to-night     You  won't  mind,  I  suppose  ;  and 

I  will  look  in  upon  you  about  the  second  act." 

,^     51  always  told  Terry  he  was  bom  to  be  a  social  martyr," 

i  France  says.     "The  fetch-andH:arty,  go-andrcome,  do  this 

oand  that  rôle^  has  been  yours  from  your  birth,  my  poor, 

^iboy." 

So  it  chances  that  when  the  curtain  goes  up,  and  the 

."  Golden  Witch  "  begins,  Gordon  Caryll  dpes  not  make  one 

of  the  party  of  three  who  look  down  from  the  front  of  their 

box,  amid  ail  the  glittering  "  horse-shoe  "  of  gaslight  and  hu* 

man  faces.     The  pretty,  biîght  théâtre  is  very  full  ;  there  is 

an  odor  of  pastilles,  a^flutter  of  fans,  a  sparkle  of  jeweiry. 

Felicia  is  in  great  form  to-night — she  has  heard  from  Lord 

*    Dynely  himself  of  the  family  party  coming  to  view  her  with 

coldly-critical,  British  eyes.      They  hâve  laughed  together 

over  it  in  her  little  dusk-shaded,  perfumed,  luxurious  draw- 

ing-room,  where  His  lordship  has  made  a  much  longer  raorn- 

^  ing  call  than  he  made  immediately  before  ia  the  Faubourg 

/T,  Si.  Honore. 

She  glances  up  now,  swiftly  and  es^erly,  as  she  cornes 
forward  io  the  footlights,  a  golden  goblet  in  her^and,  her 
long  hair  floating  loosely  over  her  shoulders,  singing  some 
wild  bacchanalian,  Theresa-like  ditty.  She  is  gloriously 
beautiful  in  her  scant  drapery,  and  her  rich  voice  fiUs  the 
théâtre  superbly.  But  as  she  tosses  off  her  goblet,  at  the  end 
-  of  her  drinking  song,  she  sees  that  the  man  she  looks  for  is 
not  in  the  box. 

Will  he  know  her  ?  He  has  never  seen  her  since  that 
loqg,  far-off  night  when  they  parted  in  the  darkening  day  bv 
the  shore  of  the  lonely  Canadian  river.  He  thinks  Jier  dead. 
Will  he  knonr  her  ?  A  wild,  tierce  delight  fiUs  her  soûl, 
fiâmes  up  in  her  eyes.  and  burns  in  her  cheeks.      Will  he 


^ïnbwker?    She  willslng  to-n^ht  (ijf  "Be  coinés)  tSé  iÔM^ 
ihe  ever  sang  for  him,  that  first  eveninig;  in  the  cottsi|e  <x 


•#■-, 


1    '      "    'T  '''-h**'»**.* 


ê*;U 


AT  THE  VÀHIETIES. 


341 


A 

"P^^^^ 


Major  Lovcll.  It  will  ran  very  well  with  this  play--that  is 
much  more  song  and  dance  than  drama.  If  hedoubtî  lier 
identity,  surely,  surely,  he  will  remember  that. 

She  IS  wild  with  excitement,  she  surpasses  herself.      The 

^udience  applaud  to  the  écho— she  flings  herself  in to  her 

'^art  with  a  reckless  abandon  that  sweeps  her  listeners  alone 

1   with   her.      And  still  she  watches  that  box,  and   still  he 

doesnot  corne.     Will  he  not  corne  atall?    Amid  aAtorm 

of  excited  applause,  amid  a  shower  of  bouquets,  the  cortain 

falls  upon  the  first  act.  ( 

«'How  well  she  plays."  "  How  magnific^ly  she  i» 
looking.  «  Never  saw  her  dance  half  a  quarter^  well  in 
my  hfe  before."  «'By  Jove  I  you  know,  what  z.  voicé 
J^ehcia  has.  Thèse  and  a  hundred  such  exclamations  niri 
the  round  of  the  théâtre. 

"She  is  beautiful  ! "  France  exclaims,  "with  a  beauti  du 
diable  I  never  saw  equalled.  And  she  dances  and  sings  like 
a  very  Bacchante."  ^ 

"  Wfsh   to   Heaven   they  would  burn   her  as  a  witch,"  ' 
growls  Terry,  under  his  ruddy  beard.      "Such  a  woman 
shouI(3  no  more  be  let  run  loose  than  a  leopardess." 

«  She  sings  yery  well,"  Lady  Dynely  says,  languidly:  «  but 
there  is  soraethmg  fierce  and  outre  abom  her,  is  there  not  ? 
I  don  t  hke  tlus  sort  of  exhibition.  A  ballet  is  bad  enough 
—this  kind  of  thmg  is  positively  indélicate.  What  is  she 
lookftig  at  our  box  for  ?     I  caught  her  more  than  once." 

She  ts  ookmg  for  what  she  does  not  see.  There  is  Eric 
yonder  m  the  stalls,"  sàys  Miss  Forrester,  in  a  tone  of  stonv 
resentraent.  ' 

"Is-he,  really?"  Eric's  mother  puts  up  her  glass  and 
leans  forward.  "So  he  is,  and  quite  alone.  Where  is 
Crystal,  I  wonder ?" 

"  Crystal  is  at  home,  and  quite  alone  also,  you  may  be 
very  sure,"  answers  France,  stiU  in  that  tone  of  strong,  sup. 
pressed  mdignation.  e»     f- 

"  I  wonder  if  he  sees  us  ?     Oh,  yes,  he  does.    Therti  he 


jtwtngî  -1*0  doubttrwm  (aiTûpên  ù8  aîréctly.    Trance, 
>hy<îon't  you  look?    He  is  bowing  to>w."  .        ' 

Bol  France'»  bnght,  angiy  eyc»  are  fixed  steadfkstly  upon 


il" 


<*    -2! 


•    'H 


%: 


i 


f*i-^  1 


.c-  >>^"^ 


(  ■  r 


342 


AT  THE  VARIETIES. 


|he  riàng  curtain — she  wiU  tua  see  Lord  Dynelyt.  Ami 
Lord  Dynely  looks  away  from  her,  feeling  he  bas  been 
snubbed,  and  knowing  very  well  thé  reason  why. 

He  bas  côtne  to  the  ^iieatre  to-nigbt,  partly  becaitsç  he 
^capnot  stay  away,  partly  out  of  sheer  bravado. 

What  I  shall  he  stay  away  becl^lse  he  is  afraid  ôf  Terry 

^Dennison,  and  France  Forrester?    Is  he  still  a  child  ir 

leadipg-strings,  to  be  dictated  to  ?    Not  if  he  knows  it.    Sa 

he  leaves  early  the  anibassador's  saloon,  and  goes  to  the 

Varietiesy  and  sits  ont  ail  the  second  act,  directly  under  the 

lorgnettes  of  the  Gordon  Caryll  party. 

'  \  ^    ^  Again  madamlg^  surpasses  herself— again  the  wbole  bouse 

'   ^  rings  with  applause — again  bouquets  are  showeredupon  her. 

Lord  ,Dynely  adds  bis  mite  to  the  rest,  a  bouquet  of  scarlet 

and  white  camellias.     Again  and  again,  the  black,  fierce, 

festless  eyes,  flash  their  feverish  light  to  that  one  box.     And 

'•,    still  the  man  for  whom  she  looks  doociiot  come. 

He  cornes  as  the  curtain  falls  foi: , the  second  time,  and 
^         ï'rance's  eyes  and  smile  welcome  hun. 

«♦Am  I  vgrx  late?"  he  asks.  "McLaren  and  ï  had  a 
thoiisand  things  lo  say,  and  time  fléw.  I  say,  France,  how 
do  ^ou  like  it  ?" 

'  "Not  at  ail  !  She  fascinâtes  one,  but  it  is  a  horrid  and 
unhealthy  sort  t>f  fascination.  Her  mad  singing  and  dan- 
cing throw  me  into  a  fever." 

"Is  there  much  more  of  it?"  he  ^ys,  standing  be&ind 
her  chair.     "Is  it  ail  over?"  „;    ^ 

"There  is  one  more  acL    She^b  toJ«  bumed  alivé, 
Terry  tells  me,  and  I  want  to  wait  ànàse^noL^  1  shall  try 
to  fadfcy  the  burning  real,  and  enjoy  it  aclo^ngly." 
,   " By  Jove  I "  he  says,  apd  laughs,  "what  a  blood-thirsty 
spirit  we  are  devejoping  I    Ah  !  Dyne\y,yûu  hère  ?  " 

For  the  door  opens,  and  Eric,  languid  and  handsome, 
saunters  in.  • 

"How  do,  Caryll?  Late,  ai'n't  you?  Well,  France-r 
well,«MM^^,howdoyoulikeit?   Superbactress,isn't8he?" 

He  look»  at  France.    With  a  certain  défiance,  she  seei 


cceprar 


*'  If  dancing  mad  jigs,  singing  drinking  songs,  and  ci^r* 


'Éà^4 


■( 


'  AT  THE   VARIETIBS,   y 


343 

•  ipg  about  like  a  bedlamite,  go  to  constitute  a  fine  actress, 

îhen  yes.     A  little  of  Madame  Felicia  goes  a  long  way."   . 
.  ^  His  eyes  jflash,  but  he  laughs.  '      .    . 

•^Thete  is  no  accounting  for  tastes.  She  seems  to  please 
her audience,  atleast." 

.     **WhereisCrystal?"  Branceabmptîyasks.     "I  thought' 
you  were  to  dine  at  the  Embassy." 

"  Crystal  is  at  home.  And  you  thought  quite  right  ;  we 
wer^Ko  dine  at  the  Embassy."  The  défiant  ring  is  itaore 
inarked  than  ever.  **  I  hâve  diped  there,  and  oamy  way 
home  dropped  in  hère,  knowing  I  woirid  hkvé  thfe  ^easure 
of  being  in  the  bosom  of  my  family."  * 

He  looks  at  heir  steadfastly,  and  France  tqmsber'white 
shoulder  deliberately  upoh  him.  Her  lover  îs  leasing  over 
the  back  of  her  chair— àh  !  how  she  loves  him,,  hbw  she 
trusts  him— how  différent  he'ïs  froin  this'4shallôw-brained 
jfoung  dandy,  wi^h  his  Greek"  beauty,  and  callôûs  heart! 
How  differently  her  life  wiltbe  ordered  from  Grystal's,  when 
rfie  is  his  wife. 

As  shé  thinks  it,  the  curtain  goes,  up  for  the  tby-d  time, 
and. the  "Golden  Witch"  bounds  on  tbç  sta^. 

She  is  singing  as  she  springs  to  the  foou^^t^  a  gleeful 
hunting  chorus  this  time.  A  tçoop  of  foUowers  in  green  and 
gold  confte  after,  and  join  in  thè  chorus.  .  Her  costume  is  of 
green  and  gold  also  *  a  green  hUnting  cap,  with  a  long  white 
plume,  is  set  jauntily  on  her  raven  tresses.  She  is  dazzljng  • 
m  the  dress,  she  is  radiant  as  she  sings.  Agaîn  her  sweet, 
high  voice,  rings  to  the  domed  roof.  ^  AiwUt  isihe  very  song 
Rosamond  LoVell  sang  for  Gprdon/ Caryll,  soVentcen  years 
ago,  in  the  Toronto  cottageiw^       / 

She  lOasheâ  one  fiercé  electric  Idpk  up  àt  their  box*. 

Yes,  he  is  there  ât  last— at  last.  Thank  Heaven  for  that  I 
if«she  can  thank  Heâven  for  anythbg. 

He  hears  her,  he  secs  her;  recognizes  the  song.  Hé 
knowsher. 

;    Her  hour  of  triumph   is   complète. .' Her   excit^ment 

-leaches  ita-climax.    A»4the lieverplayeJ  btffowrrt»-|>fety»- 

to-night    She  holds  the  multitude  bréathless,  spellbound. 

Sh$  sings  her  own  death-song,  wild,  wailing,  weira,  unearth- 


fr, 


-.1 


1 


V 


«5  '* 


^■^• 


1''^'% 


\ 


344 


Ar  TBE  J^ARIETIES. 


indIuSsiL'"  ^Th?^"^  Wthat  France  shudders 
her  ,;S/Î  *.  ^^  miflfic  fiâmes  arise-surround  her, 
her  uphfted  face  w  seen  above  them,  as-îhe  curtain  fallâ 
.   down,  her  ghastly  dèatt-song  dies  wailbg  away 
*K,f  *l  *  °^°™ent,  so  rapt  and  petrified  are  the  audience 
that  they  eannot  applaud.     Then-^yx^  a  storm  of  cSn? 

Sff  •««  ^'*  '  M?^'*^'*  '     *«y  shout,  as  with  one  voîce 

She  oomes  out  smiling  and  kissing  haXds.  AnoSier  témi 
pest  of  applause  and  delight  breaks  Xox^  Theff  flashTne  uu 
pn^ast  ^ok.  straight  into  tîordpn  Caiyll's  F^^  st  df^^ 

ofTiSel''  *  '*^  -""*  commotion,  anuprising  and  shawling 

it  is  Hke\hl  ^ZIT  ^"^^  rî  n  '^"^^^'>  "*^  »  diabolical  I 
s^c  Lcîe  aL^?  n"^'  rf''^"  «ever  corne  to  see  this  Sutre 
spectacle  agam.    Do ^^«  hke  it,  Gordon?" 

to  he^r  ïi?  I  >  ^""^  ^°°'''  "P  *'  ^»'"-  He  does  not  seem 
L  S^  ?l^  ^''^'  "°'  '^^"  *°  see^r^-he  is  staring  S 
the  stage  hke  a  man  stupefied.  ^  aiarmg  ai 

"Gordon!"  she  cries. 

Wt  ms  face  stiU  keeps  that  dazed,  stunned  look  Hiâ 
bronzed  skm  too.  has  turhe^  of  a  de'ad  ashen  gj^î?  ' 

Her  question  seems  to  break  the  spelL  tie'makes  an 
iMothing.  Willyou  corne?" 
«<wM!'l''°*''^  '"'  <*ançed-it  is  hoarse  an<Uow.  He 
îfr^riro  ^"  "»"  «echanlcally,  and  watches  her-aningSg 
her  opera-wrap  without  trying  to  help  her.  She  tSces  S 
^d^goes  with  hini  out,  andVthe  whUe  h^ieepsth^^d  " 

« /?K  ^^^l  ^^"^  *«  '^**»"«  »°  his  sleep.         ^ 
know^'L^ïi';.^'^  "^"  °"^'  "«'^  «  ^'^    ^-  y- 

He  wakes  thcn-Wakes  to  the  whole  hoirid  tmth. 


'4  JRo-^  TT 7     ""^-^^^^  "'c  wnwe  noma  truth. 


ti:f. 

-       ■         # 

.t-tf 

■'k  -      ' 

--.*».  ^...  -r. 

■■  % 

r<^  ii''"  ■ 

%-i,i 

rt^ 

.      Fr 

Tt 

.:?     ■ 

sui 

■     3 

he 
Iça 
•tr 

i\-  «^  SA       1*  ' 


rfv^, 


■i^Y^ji'. 


<"*•'«  \' 


-'s     ^i        1 


^^^•^^.^ 


R%^: 


^<?;^- 


^7-  rjr£  VARIBTtES. 


345 

I  ''  ^ 

Her  eyes  dilate.  They  are  out  under  the-frosty,  February 
»^s.  fié  puts  them  into  the  carriage-T-Lady  Dynely  and 
France—but  he  makes  no  effort  to  foUow  them.  Eiic  and 
Terry  make  their  adieux  and  turn  away. 

"Are  you  not  coming,  Gordon?"  Lady  Dynely  asks  in 
surprise.  •  ,y   . 

"  No,"  he  answèrs,  still  in  Ihat  low,  hoarse  tone.  "  Hoine/' 
he  says  to  the  coachraan.  And  as  they  whirl  away,  France 
Içans  yéamingly  (qrward,  and  seës  him  standing  under  the 
Street  lamps,-  quite  alone. 


^ 


•■« 


r^*  .  ■  '  . 


:-^V:/:: 


^ 


'  «' 

-* 


■)•  . 


4 


ii'«^.«r-i> 


ÇHAPTER  VIL 

"AFTKR,  JÎANY  DAYS.'* 

lE  knows  her  !  From  the  firat  moment  in  wbich  hn 
fcyes  rested.on  her,  fron^  the  first  instant  he  bas 
heard  her  ringing  voice,  he  knows  it  is  bis  Wife. 
The  song  slje  sang  for  him  in  Major  Lovell's  dim 
^raviring-room  so  many  years  ago,  she  is  singing  again  for 
him  to-night,  for  him— he  knows  that,  too.  His  divbrced 
wife  stands  yonder  before  him— this  half-nude  actress— his* 
divorced  wife  whonf  for  the  past  ten  years  he  bas  thought 
dead.  Hh  knovs  it  in  that  first  moment  of  récognition  as 
surely  as  he  ever  knew  it  in  the  after  days. 

She  bas  hardly  changed  at  ail— in  the  strong,  white  lime 
bght,  she  does  not  stem  to  bave  aged'one  day  in  seventeen 
years.  The  dusk,  sensuous  beauty  is  riper  and  more  of  the 
"earth,  eartby;"  the  délicate  outlines  of  first  youth  bave 
passed,  except  that  she  is  even  more  beautiful  m  her  inso- 
lent, voluptuous  womanhood  than  in  her  slim,  first  girlhood. 
He  thmks  this  in  a  dazed,  stupefied  sort  of  way  as  he  stands 
and  looks  at  her.  And  this  is  Rosamond  Lovell— the 
woman  wbo  was  once  bis  wife. 

His  wife  I  bis  wife  1  The  two  words  écho  like  a  knell 
through  bis  brain,  set  themselves  to  the  wild,  sweet  music 
that  lé  ringing  abptît  him,  fit  themselves  in  time  to  her  flying 
feet  His  wife!  Yonder, créature,  singing,  dancing  in  that 
dress,  that  wtaress  rather— gaped  at  by  aU  thèse  people. 
His  wife  !  .  *^    *^ 

The  ligbts,  the  faces,  the  stage,  seem  to  swim  before 
him  in  a  bot,  red  mist.  He  grasps  the  back  of  the  chair 
je  holds,  and  sets  bis-  teeth.  Great  Heaven  1  is  the 
Nemesu^of^Ms  mad,  boyiab  fi>lly  to  pur stte  him  to  tîie-emhf 
.^  And  then  France's  cool,  sweet  voice  faUs  on  his  eor 


'ai^^Jii 


MS»<(.'^ 


■.tf^}'^ 


^ 


r' 


t'^Jf- 


i' 


V>fr      V-t«';. 


*AFTER  MÀNY  DA  YS  " 


34; 


«  Do  you  hke  it,  Gordon  1"  she  is  asking,  ^vith  a  stnile. 
Ihe  lair,  pure  feee,  the  loving,  upturned  eyes,  the  trustful 
sqtïile,  meet  him  and  stab  him  with^a  pang  that  i?  like  death. 
He  has  forgotten  her— in  the  |Ét  ihock  of  récognition  aiid 
dfeadful  surpnse,  he  has  forgotfen  her.  Now  he  lOoks  down 
Ujjon  her,  àncj  feels  without  thinkinaat  ail,  that  in  findine 
hiè  divorced  wife  ,he  has  lost  his  bride. 

pe  cannot  answer  her— his  head  is  reeling.  He  feels 
heï  wondenng,  startled  eyes,  but  he  is.beyond  caring.  He 
tnés  to.answer,  and  his  voice  sounds  far  off  and  unreal  even 
to  ms  own  ears. 

It  ends.  The  curtain  is  down,  the  blinding  stage-light  \% 
out,  she  is  gone.  He  can  breathe  once  more  now  that  fetal 
face  is  away.  The  whole  théâtre  Has  uprisen.  Lady  Dynely 
tô  moving  out  on  the  arm  of  her  son— France  is  claspine 
his  and  gazing  up  at  him  with  eyes  of  wistful  wonder. 

They  are  out  under  the  cool,  white  stars— he  has  placed 
them  m  their  carnage,  seen  them.roU  away,  and  is  alone. 

Alone,  though  scores  pass  and  repass,  although  dozçns  of 
gay  voices.  and  happy  laughs  reach  him;  although  àU  the 
bnght  city  is  stiU  broad  awake  and  in  the  streets.  He  takes 
off  his  hat  and  lets  the  cold  wind  lift  his  hair.  What  shall 
he  do,  he  thmks,  vaguely  ;  what  ought  he  do  first  ? 

Rosamo|id,  his  divorced  wife,  is  living— he  has  seen  her 
to-night.  And  France  Forrester  wiU  marry  no  man,  who  is 
the  husband  of  a  wjfe.  They  hâve  spoken  once  on  thé  sub- 
ject—gravely  and  incisively— he  recalls  the  conversation 
now,  Word  for  word,  as  he  stands  hère. 

"If  she  had  not  died,  France,"  he  had  asked  her,  "if 
nothmg  but  the  divorce  freed  me— how  thètt  ?  Would  you 
sull  hâve  loved  me  and  been  my  wife?"  1 

And  she  had  looked  at  him  with  those  clear,  truthful, 
brave  eyes  of  hers,  and  answered  at  once  : 

"  If  she  had  not  died— if  nothiçg  but  your  divorce  beed 
you,  there  could  hâve  been  no  'howthen:    Loved  you  I 
might— it  seems  to  me  I  must  ;  but  marry  you— qo.     No  ^ 
more  than  I  would  if  thçre  had  never  been  a.  divorce  „AJ, 

hrîan    Aon    I^mr^  K..i    ^^^  ...ffL j     J_     .1        •  •       . 


hian  can  hâve  but  one  wife,  and  death  Alone  cah  sever  th« 
bond.    I  bçUeve  in  np  J»tter^y  doctrine  of  divorce." 


-■■V. 


m 


'K 


*-» 


v^ 


^l 


548  .^t.         **AFTER  M  AN  Y  DA.YS:* 

'  Thçy  had  spoken  of  it  no  more,  he  Jiad  thought  of  it  110 
more.  It  ail  comes  back  to  him  m  he  stands  hère,  and 
ne  knows  he  bas  lost  fore  ver  France  Forrester 

i,;c''^K^*''^"'i"u*''?  ""f^  despair,  a  wild  idea'flashes  acioss 
bis  brain  and  he  catches  at  it  as  the  drowniiig  catch  at 
straws,  It  h  w/fiis  wife-^e  wiU^iot  believe  it  It  is  an 
accKtental  resemblance— it  may  be  a  relative—a  sister:  shé 
niay  bave  had  sisters,  for  what  he  ever  knew.  It  is  not 
Rosamond  Lovell-the  dead  do  not  arise,  and  she  w^s 
kiUed  ten  prears  ago.  Sonie  one  must  knW  this  Madame 
Felicias.  antécédents;  it  is  only  one  of  iese  accidentai 
reserablances  that  startle  the  world  sométimes.  He  witt 
findout.    Who  is  it  knows  Madame  Felicia? 

He  puts  bis-band  to  bis  head  as  this  délirions  idea  flashes 
tbrough  it,  and  tnes  to  think.  Terfy  Dennison^yes.  be  is 
sure  Terry  Dennison  knoys  her,  and  knows  her  well.  He 
will  be  able  to  tell  hmi  ;  he  wUl  foUow  at  once. 

A  moment  later  ahd  he  is  striding  with  a  speed  of  which 
he  is  unconscious  in  the  direction  of  thé  Hôtel  du  Louvre 
Smfwf  rf  ™^V^adily  enougb.  Terry  is  standing  in  thé 
briUiantly-ht  vestibule,  smoking  a  cigar.  Eric  is  bon  garçon. 
and  has  run  up  at  once  to  his  wife.  A  heavy  hand  is  laid 
on  Terry  s  shoulder,  a  breathless  voice  speaker    ' 

"Dennisonl"  ^^«"^1^^    _ 

Terry  turns  round,  takes  out  his  cigar,  and  opéiis  his 

m»ifï^/'i   S^ï  '„  ^""^  *'  !^'  ^^^  °^  "«^»''    Whafs  the 
^u^  ^y  dear  fellow,  apythmg  wrong?    You  look—" 

There  i  nothing  wron|,"  stiU  huskily.     »  I  want  to  ask 
you  a  quest|on,  Dennison.     Come  out  of  this." 
««•A    l!"h^'*  ""  through  Tenys,  and  draws  him  out 
of  thehoteL  entrance  into  the  street    Terry  stiU  holds  his 
agar  betwee^  bis  finger  and  thumb,  and  stiU  stares  blankly. 

Ihere  must  be  something  wrong,"  he  réitérâtes  :  «on 
my  Word,  my  dear  fellow,  you  look  awfully  " 

«Nevér  mind  mylooks,"  Caryll  impatiently  crie».    "Den- 
Wson,  you  knowjMa^me  Felicta  ?  " 


owyMa^i 
Kpected^ 


^A*^hisuirexpccted  question,  DeHHÎi5r,irWssi5Iei  itandi 
more  agape  than  ever.    Thep  he  lau^s.  ^ 


3^,,;yF---,.!    ■?<■!> 


**AFTER  ^ANY  DAYSr 


34$ 


«  What  r  '  YoHHoo,  CaiyU  J    Oh,  this  is  too  mach~» 

Vn„?n!;    .k"^*"'     ^"^?  ^^^^   ^"sl^ly-       "Answer  me. 
You  know  this  woman  ?'* 

,"Well,  yes.".         , 

' 'Uotitnately  ?  " 

maJdy^i''  ^*'''  *«^^°'    ^  ^"I^«  I  n»ay  say  tolerably  inti 

"Whatisherhistory?"  ', 

"Wbàt?"  ' 

"Wh©  is,she?    Where  does  sfae  corné  from?    What  ia  ' 
he^r  real  name?"  Caryll  asks    still  in  fhat  a^«  k 
breathless  haste.  ^  '  *  *'  ^™^  *'°"5«» 

=u^''\?^"r"''°"'*  ^^'^^  ^''**^  t°  t^'ice  their  usual  size      He 
altogether  forgets  to  résume  bis  newly-lit  cigar  ' 

"  My  dear  fellow "  -^         »    • 

rali^rike^tK^H         ^^^^^^^^^^ -<^  Terry,«Iow  natu-^ 

♦K  "  "^X  If  f  ^^''  ^«""^  «ïoes  she  corne  from  ?  What  was 
the  rest  ?  '  he  dejnands  helplessly.     «  Good  Lord  !  CarvU 

"Wold'"°"'  /"  r  ^eWfather'^^iss^o?^"* 
•  „  T  ?     °  ^  ™®  yo"  J^new  her  intimately." 

and  that  goes  for  nothing.  What  do  we,  any  of  us,  know  of 
Î;LT^^%-  ^°''''  g^o^^i^Patieiit  old^?iuow;  au  I 
?h    1  î    ^'^«'^"^"g  and  cross-examine.    You  shaU  hâve 

^th  a  baSgï"    '^^  "^  '^  "'P''"'""'  height.oryou'11  go'oJ 

h,- J!î^'"!i'^  •*  ^u^î""**^  P^"'*'-  '^«"'y  '■esumes  his  cigar,  thrusts 
Slï^^^'V"  ^'^  ^°^*  P^'^^^*^  *"^  ^^"s-  Gordon  C«wî 
Sm  down      "^""^^  «"fficiently  to  make  a  great  effort  aid 

thll\^1?  ^"''  P*[^°'''  '^^"7'"  *»e  says,  more  coherently 
,^e  has  yel.5pok^-èat  this  isa^4ttS- ofnôôïdS 
5ïï?„  T  '","«--»  ™?««  almost  of  life  and  deàth."      ^ 
Agam  Terty-s  eyes  dilate,  but  this  time  he  says  nothirtg. 


W 


•.V^rj-.;-*^'  :é* 


350 


"ÂFTEJl  MANY  PAYS.** 


r^ 


W't 


r^. 


prr 


^  I  ttcYcr  saw  Madame  Felida  before  to-night,"  goea  on 
Caryll;  «andshe  bekrs  the  mosf  astonishing,  th%  irost  as- 
tounding  resemblancd  to  another  woman,  a  woman  I  hâve 
thought  dead  for  the  ^ast  ten  years.  I  want  to  know  her 
history,  and  I  hâve  corne  to  you." 

"Goon,"  saysTerry,  caknly.  V^ 

"  Was  Madame  Felicia  ever  in  America  ?~ever  in '^— a 
pâulè—" in  Canada?" 

"  She  sayf  not,"  is  Tenys  answer.  I|    ..  /. 

"  Says  n9t  ?    Then  you  Ih^— "  'I*  '   - 

"I  think  she  was.  She  has  always  been  so  véhément  in 
denying  it  that;  I  hâve  «uspected  from  the  first  she  lied. 
And  since  last  night  I  felt  sure  of  it" 

"Since  last  night — " 

**  I  don't  know  that  ifs  quitç  Tatr  to  tell,"  says  Teny  ; 
"but  I  don't  seethat  l'm  boundltd  fceeo  Felicia's  secrets~I 
owe  her  no  good  tum,  and  if  if|Df-*n|5^  to  you,  Caryll-   " 


|h  that  woman  is  of 

iii|ode  of  last  night 
*  '  'Ivertent  words, 


"  Anything—everything  co^i 
use  to  me,"  Caryll  answers,  fei)f  i 

Without  rtîore  ado,  Terry  relai^^ 
—the  rescuinç  the  girl  in  the  strè'et,  h"! 
and  the  bringmg  her  to  Felicia.  !^>V* 

"  Sheasseverated  again  and  again  that  ^âicia  had  been  in 
Canada.  She  said  she  herself  had  been  bom  there,  in  such 
a  way,  by  Jove  !  that  you  could  only  infer  Felicia  to  be  her 
mother.  And  she  looked  like  Felicia.  And  she  had  Felicia's 
picture.  And  Felicia  received  her  at  once.  And  I  believe, 
upon  my  soûl,  that  she  is  Felicia's  daughter." 

Gordon  Cary^  listened  dumbly.  felicia's  child  aiid-^ 
his.  He  knew  there  hadi  been  a  child— a  daughter—had 
not  Mr.  Barteaux  told  hini?    And  she  too  was  hère. 

"She  called  herself— >"%!ebegan. 

"She  called  herself  Gordfon  Kennedy.  Gordon t  *'By 
Jove  I  "  FjwMhTfirst  time  a  ^udden  thought  strikes  Terry— 
a  thonghCso  sudden,  and  so  striking  that  it  almost  knocks 
bim  over.  «  By  Jpve  1  "  he  tepeats  agâin,  and  stares  blan|cly 
at  his  companion. 


TbereTrnqnwed Of Tûrûic^  qaestionÎBg.    ÀMttMntê  is~ 
inade douUy  |ure^FeUcia andRdsàmond  hù^fél  are  àtte, 


h  fi  .  ■?.  <■ . 


.   ) 


■■■■vs^r 


■'•^ 


**ÂfT$R  MAN9  DAYS.» 


-A- -y 
V     Si 


35» 


picked  up  adrift  in   tbe  Paris  streets  is  hii 
need  of   further  questions,   indeed.      Hc 
ip  abruptly  and  on  the.spot 
'      hâ  «ajrg.     **  Thanks,  very  niych.    And 


gone,  and  Terry  is  left  standing^outh  and 

peâri&edjpedestrian.     It  ail  cornes  upon  him 

T^he  story  of  Gordon  Caryll's  Canadîan  wife-r-the  actrés»-^ 

-  the  picture — the  puzzling  reseniblance  to  Felicia — ^her  eager 

questions  about  him  the  ev^ning  before.    Terry  is  dumb* 

founded. 

"  Byjove  1  "  he  says  again  aloud,  and  at  the  sound  of  that 

dear  and  familiar  expletive  his  sensés  retu^n.     "By  Jove, 

you  knowl"  he  repeats,  and  j)uts .  his  ^ar  once  more  be- 

.'  ,  tvireen  his  lips,  and  in  a  dazed  state  prépares  to  go  home. 

Ujj/,,'  >  Gordon  Caryll  goes  |)ome  too.     He  sees  France's  face  at 

^   the  drawing-room  window  as  he  passes,  lookingwistful  and 

•weary,  and  at  the  sight  he  sets  his  teeth  hard.     He  cannot 

m^et  her.     He  goes  up  to  his  room,  locks  the  door,  and 

fiings  himself  into  a  chair  to  think  it  ail  ou  t. 

He  has  lost  her — f^'^&§j^^^^  ^^^'  To-morédw  at  the 
latest  she  must  know  al$^wthen--4he  knows  as  surely  as 
tbat  he  is  sitting  hère — she^ll  never  so  much  as  see  him 
again.        -  .  -  .. 

-  It  ia  no  fauhof  his — she  will  not  blanoe  him— -shè  will 
loVe  and  pity  him,  and  suffer  as  acutely  as  he  will  suffer  him- 
self. AU  the  same,  though,  she  will  never  see  him  more. 
And  at  the  though$  he  starts  from  his  chair,  goaded  to  «isort 
of  madness,  and  walks  tip' and  down  the  room.  - 

The  hours  pass.  He  thinks  and  thinks,  but  ail  to  no 
purpose — ^not  allthe  thinking  hè  can  do  in  a  lifetime  can 
alterfacts.  This  woman  ishis  divorced  wife— and  France 
Forrester  will  marry  no  divorced  man«  The  /law  can  free 
^  him  from  his  wife,  but  it  cantlot  give  him  Francle.  The  pen* 
v  j^fy  of  his  ûrst  folly  has  not.been  paid— :and  it  is  tô  be  paid, 
it  seeros,  to  the  uttermost  farthHilr  il&  exile  and  aûsery , 
are  jo  begin  ail  oygr  again. W^"^"^  ,  / 


-    Hë  suffers  tOhiQÎgb^  u  seems  tô  hlnà,  as  Re/hls  never  mT""^ 
\,   fyscd  in  ÛM  pasL,    Aiid  as  the  fair  February  mcMming  dawi»% 


'S*. 


:C:' 


1' 


% 


f. 


d 


352 


"AFTER  M  AN  Y  DAYSr 


it  fihds  him  with  his  face  bowed  in  his  hands,  sitting  stonç 
still  in  absolute  despair. 

The  fi^^t  sharp  spear  of  sunshine  cornes  jubilantly  through 
the  glass.  ^e  lifts  his  head.  Haggard  and  pallid  beyond 
ail  telling,  with  eyes  dxy  and  burning,  and  white  despair  on 
^very  Une  of  his  face.  His  résolve  is»taken.  AU  shall  be 
tol^  but  first  that  there  may  not  be  even  a  shadbw  of  mis- 
take, ,  he  wil^  seë  this  Woman  who  calls  herself  Madame 
Felida— will  see  her  and  from  her  own  lips  know  the  truth. 

Early  as  it  is  he  rings  for  his  man,  and  has  a  cold  bath. 
It  stands  him  in  the  stead  of  sleep.  He  makes  a  careful 
toilet,  has  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  roU,  and  goes  out  of  the 
house  before  any  of  his  womankind  are  stirring. 

The  bright  sunshine  and  bustle  of  the  streets  help  him. 
He  smokes,  and  that  soothes  him.  As  eleven  chimes  from 
ail  the  city  clocks,  JK  is  altogether  himself  again,  the  excite* 
nient  and  agitatioM^o'f  last  night  over  and  done  with.  Hé 
b  very  pale — ^beyond  that  there  is  no  change  in  him.  ^ 

»  He  feels  no  anger  against  the  woman  he  is  going  to  see — 
he  is  just  enojugh  for  that.  The  fault  has  been  ail  his — ail 
his  also  must  be  the  atonement.  But  h^will  see  her,  and 
then' —  .  <|  '^  .  •*♦     ' 

He  cannOt  quite  think — steady  as  he  has  forced  himself  to 
be — of  whatflvill  corne  after.     It  is  very  early  yet  to  make  a 
.  call,  but  he  cannot  wait.     It  is  not  diffictilt  to  discover  the 
address  of  the.  most  popular  actress  in  Paris  ;  he  does  dis- 
cover it,  walks  steadfastly  there,  and  encapnters  madame's 
iflall  chasseur  in  his  gorgeous  uniform  of  carminé  and  gold. 

Madame  sees  no  one  at  this  hour,  monsieur  is  politely 
told  ;  it  is  doubtful  if  madame  has  arisen. 
^    But  madame  will  see  A/M,  monsieur  is  quite  certain.     Will 
this  Farisian  "  Jeames  De  La  Pluche  "  be  good  enough  to 
fbrwMd  monsieur's  card  to  madame.  ^  *     9 

Thechasseur  looks  doubtful,  but  smiething in  the  English 
monsiettr'ipEice  causes  him  to  comply,  The  c^xd  is  passed 
onward,  affi  inward,  until  it  reaches  the  hand  of  madame's 
iMdHn^d  by  madame'»  maid  is  prescnted  to  madame 


Mftjiiame  t^  arisen — early  as  is  the  hour,  \ii^  even  break- 
lastea     ShAies  back  in  her  duflk-shaded  drawing-roon^ 


V*-' 


^  who 

-   ^. 

face 
quit 


,VJ' 


**AFTER  MAN7 


DAYS." 


353 


looking  rather  fagged  after  last  night's  unusual  excitement, 
with  deep  bistre  circles  surrounding  her  eyes.  Her  !ady 
cotnpanion  sits  neatie^ing  aloud.  Stie  lies  back  with  closed 
eyes,  not  listening,  but  thinking  of  Gordon  Caryll's  face  as 
she  saw  it  last  night  looking  down  upon  her. 

"  A  visiter  for  madame — a  gentleman,"  Pauline  announces. 

"  Ican  see  no  one,  it  is  too  early,"  ,madàme  says  crossly  j 
"  is  it  M.  Di  Venturinf?  " 

"  No,  madame.  An  English  gentleman,  tall  and  fair— 
Who  has  never  been  hère  before." 

Madame  sits  suddenly  up,  and  seizes  the  card.  Her  pale 
face  flushes  dark  red  as  she  reads  the  name.  She  does  not 
quite  know  what  she  has  expected— ^certainly  not  this.  For 
a  moment  her  heart  beats  fast. 

"  I  will  see  the  gentleman,  Pauline,"  shq  says.  "  Mrs. 
Hannery,  yôu  must  be  tired  of  that  stupid  book.  The 
morning  is  fine — suppose  you  take  Pandore  [the  poodle]  and 
go  fqr  a  walk.  It  >vill  do  you  both  good,  and  I  shall  not 
ne^d  you." 

Thus  dismissed,   the  lady  companion  rises  and  goes; 
madame  turns  to  her  maid  : 
,     "  Where  is  my  new  protégée  ?  "  she  asks.    "  Miss  Dohny." 

"  In  her  room,  madame,  reading." 

"See  that  she  d<>es  not  leave  it  then,  see  that  she  does 
not  enter  hère.     Now  show  the  gentleman  up." 

The  maid  départs.  Madame  springs  up,  darkens  the 
rootn  yet  a  little  more,  looks  at  t^çrself  in  one  of  the  full- 
length  mirrors,  and^s  back  in  her  seat  with  drooping,  languid 
eyes  before  the  door  re-opens.  But  her  heart  is  beating 
fast,  and  her  topaz  eyes  are  gleaming  savagely  under  their 
white-v«iled  lids. 

The  door  opens,  and  he  cornes  in.  And  so  again,  after 
many  years,  this  man  and  woman,  once  husband  and  wife — 
are  face  to  face. 

The  first  thing  he  sees  in  that  twilight  of  the  room  is  hia 

own  picture.     It  hangs  directiy  opposite  the  door,  and  the 

„aunghine»-asuit  opeûSy^iiEdls  for Amoment  upon  it.    Xike  Aafc 

they  paited,  like  this  they  meet  again  !     He  stands  for  a 

MCoqd  motionless,  looking  at  it,  and  she  is  the  first  to  speak. 


'.#v- 


) 


'■-*«! 


C^' 


¥■ 


TJ      ifi 


r.4""-r-- 


'Âii'^-^*^- 


1  -^       ^      S     î 


&.^^^v.  '<^^^^M^:m^^ 


354 


'AFTER  MANY  DAYS.** 


% 


^■-•. 


i  A  veiy  good  picture,  and  very  well  painted  ;  but  3  don't 
think,  I  can't  tlunlt,  I  ever  wore  such  a  face  of  despair  as 
that.     You  ought  to  know,  though,  better  than  I." 

The  slow,  sweet  Voice  was  as  smooth  and  even  as  thougb 
the  heart  beneath  were  not  throbbing  at  fever  beat.     A  cruel 
lingeringsmilewas  on  her  fece,  and  the  yellow,  stealthy  eyes 
were  watching  him  greedily.     He  tumed  as  she  siwke  and 
looked  at  her. 

>Rosamond!" 

^he  st^rted  at  the  nanie,  at  the  low,  even  gentle  tone,  in 
which  Jt  was  spoken.  Thé  blood  rose  again  over  her  face, 
and  fpr  a  second  she  foiind  no  voice  to  answer.  Then  she 
laughed. 

''  Ma  foi  !  "  she  said,  "  how  droll  it  sounds  to  hear  that  !  I 
had  ahnost  forgotten  that  once  tvos  vay  name,  so  long  is  it  since 
I  hâve  heard  u  ?    Ah,  Dieu  /  how  old  it  makes  one  feel." 

A  real  pang  went  through  her  heart.  Growing  old  I 
Yes,  surely,  and  to  grow  old  was  the  haunting  terror  of  this 
womau's  life. 

"You   bave  changed,"    she  said,   looking  at   him  full, 

changed  more  than  I  bave.     You  do  not  resemble  very 
preatly  the  slender,  fair-haired  stripling  I  knew  so  long  ago 
«i_Toronto.     And  yet  I  should  bave  known  youjanywhere 
Mon  ami,  will  you  not  sit  down  ?" 

"Thanks,"  he  answered  in  thesame  low,  level  voice,  "  I 
will  not  detain  you  but  a  moment  Last  night,  for  the  first 
time  smce  we  parted  at  Québec,  I  saw  you— ''^        __^ 

"And  the  sight  was  a  shock,  was  it  not,  monsieuA?"  she 
•gayly  mterrupted.  *. 

"  It  was,"  he  replied  gravely,  "  since  I  thought  you  dead. 
Smce  I  was  sure  of  it." 

"  Ah,  ye^  I  that  railway  accident.  Well,  it  was  touch  and 
I?  T  I^V"^  expect  to  be  so  near  death,  and  escape  again. 
But  I  did  escape,  and— hère  I  am  !  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  her  insolent  smile,  her  eyes  rieam- 
11  g  with  evil  fire.  * 


M 


"  Hère  I  am,"  she  repeated  with  slow,  linfferinff  eniov- 
...     "  *F*»**  your4M»tor  you    doei  it  not  r    AF 


I  ipoiled  mine  fpr  me  /to/  night.' 


i:^- 


^v;A.^s*.!,...i#.^* 


■^;»â 


-^-'%. 


vj: 


.*• 


t 


# 


**AFTER  MANY  DAYS," 


355 


She  pointed  to  the  ^icture— the  vengefuj  delight  she  felt 
shining  in  her  great  eyeè. 

"  You  were  merciless  thafc  night,  Gordon  Caryll,  and  1 
vowed  revenge,  did  I  not  ?  Well  the  years  hâve  corne  and 
the  years  hâve  gone^  we  both  lived,  and  revenge  was  out  of 
my  reach. ,  I  never  forgave  you  and  I  never  wiU  ;  but  what 
could  rîiô  ?  Now  we  meet,  and  I  need  do  nothing.  The 
very  fact  that  I  am  alive  is  vengeance  enopgh.  It  parts  you 
from  hei:— jdoes  it  not  ?  Ah,  you  feel  that  !  Monseigneur, 
I  wonder  why  you  hâve  corne  hère  this  morning?,  It  is  cer- 
tainly  an  honorai  did  not  expect."  ' 

"  I  came  lo  make  assurance  certainty,"  he  answered.  "  I 
had  no  ^oubt,  and  still — ^" 

"And  still  you  would  stand  face  to  face  with  me  once 
more.  Well— there  is  no  doubt,  is  there  ?  I  àm  Rosamond 
Lovell— Rosaraond  Caryll— the  girl  you  married,  and  whose 
heart  you  so  nearly  broke,  seventeen  years  ago.  Oh,  don't 
loflk  so  scornful  I  L- mean  it  1  Even  I  had  a  heart,  and  I 
loVed  you.  Loved  jfou  so  well  that  if  I  had  been  able  I 
would  hâve  gone  down  to  the  river  and  drowned  myself  after 
you  left  me  that  night.  Fottunately  I  was  not  able.  I  could 
laugh  now  when  I  look  bac^  and  think  of  my  besotted  folly. 
We  outlive  ail  that  at  five-and-thirty." 

"  You  ifrere  tiof  able,"  he  remsated  j  "  that  means— " 

"That  my  child  was  bom  tWelve  hours  after  we  parted," 
she  mterrupted  once  more.  "  Did  they  tell  you  in  Ouebec 
that?"  ^ 

"  Yes,  they  told  me.     And  Ée  child  is  with  you  now." 

"  Who  told  you  so  ?  "  she  demanded,  sharply. 

"I  know  it — that  is  enough.  You  ask  me  why  I  came 
hère  to-day— one  reason  was  to  see  her."  ^ 

She  laughed  contemptuously. 

"And  do  you  fancy  I  will  let  you?  Why,  I  meant  that 
child  from  her  birth  to  avenge  her  mother's  wrongs.  And 
she  shall— I  swear  it  ?  "    ,, 

"  You  refuse  to  let  me  see  her  ?" 

*|  Most  émphatically— yes.      When  the  time  comts  ypn 


«hall  see Jwj^to^wnrtxist— not  before. 


,«■ 


♦  ■ 

r- 


s^.. 


He  tutned  to  go     She  rose  up  and  sto^gd  before  him. 


|li:^^^^^'"evsfci  J  ;  •  \ 


r 


356 


"AFTER  MANY  DÀyS.' 


'Wliatl  so  soon,"  she  said,  with  A  laugh,  «aiid  aftër  so 
maîiy  years'  Réparation  ?  VVell.  then,  go-açt  ons/not  words 
are  best  between  us.  But  I  think/ Gordon  XVrjS 
bas  cpme.  Miss  Fraace  Forrester  is  a  veryprTudan7spo? ' 
less  young  lady-so  they  fell  me.  Hâve  yKd  her  vet 
who  Fehcia  the  jictress  is  ?  "  ^ 


.C'A 


x 


1*,tJ' 


* 


N 


/" 


A>i*^^iJ|)^'»ii'S! 


y^SgSS^^^^^-ft 

Jt^'  5^   ,  ^3^*^^^, 

•          .     *•      T'iit 

?  •    '/ 

1       -                   1 

K     '  t'  "'*  ' 

»            %             '' 

,i       <;  i 

?                  t 

/ 

- 

■-' 

ftèr  so 

;';      >   " 

words, 

ly  day .         -      ^ 

ispot            i 

' 

er  yet 

• 

■  *            .  -  ■  ' 

ithout 

• 

of  the 

V 

»  and 

I;ï 


N 


r 


^ 


CHAPTER  Vlir.- 


A  MORNING  X:ALL. 


,<♦', 


IT  is  just  one  hour  later,  and  Franco, Forrestei  staîids 
with  hands  clasped  loosely  before  her  at  the  win- 
dow  of  Mrs.  Caryll's  invalid  room,  gazing  with 
weary  wistfulness  at  the  bright  avenue  below,  a 
strained,  waiting,  listening  expression  on  her  fade.  For 
since  they  parted  last  night  so  strangely  at  the  entrance  of 
the  théâtre  she  has  not  seen  her  lover,  and  when  has  f/uit 
chanced  between  them  before  ?  Something  has  happened  ! 
Something  wrong  and  unpleasant — she  feels  that  vaguely, 
although  she  cannot  define  herown  feehng.  How  oddly  he  ^^ 
looked  last  night,  how  strangely  he  spoke,  how  singularly 
he  acted.  Did  he  too  know  MadanîSîKJF4M:ia  ?  Then  she 
sntiled  to  herself.  Of  course  not— îha^»  not  said  so  a 
dozen  tir»|K  Madamç  Felicia  might  h^^power  over  the 
wedk  andrunstable,  such  as  Eric  liynely;  over  men  of 
the  stufF  Gorden  Çaryll  was  made,  no  more  than  the  ugliest 
hag  that  prowlerf'Paris.  J* 

But  why  did  he  ^|»come?  "  I 

f^st  nigl|t,  long  àfter  the  rest  h^^tired,^she  had  waitied. 
up  in  the  salon  wistfully  anxious  t^ptie  good-night  si 
rarely  missed.  And  he  had  entered  very  late,  and  ,. 
passed  on  at  oncç  to  hisroom,  although  hcmust  hâve  kno\__ 
she  would  wait.  Had,  he  not  been  belated  times  befofe, 
and  had  she  ever  failed  to  wait — had  he  ever  failed  to  seek 
her  out?  She  had  gone  to  bed  vexed  and  disappointed. 
But  she  was  qot  6ne  easily  to  take  ofFence,  àndlt  would  be 
ail  rtght  to-morrow.  He  tnigÂi  hâve  looked  into  tlje  salon, 
but  he  did  not--and— there  Was  an  end  to  it.  To-moncfff 
JxtJbmakùu^hk  vfould  tell  her,  whaiever  it  might  be.  So- 
•l»c  rose  happy  and  light-hearted,  the  fag-endof  a  tuoe  be- 


K 


y 


t 


■if  ■ 


i.  t. 


,-F^ 


^ 


-^ 


i 


E:?y  ■  J 


358 


i\ 


■  if 

twepn  héir  %s,  with  nd  gfesei^i|n^  ail  Iha^ 

^  late.   -He  wa«   alway'^tdUbè,  l^ond.  m  , 
Land  slippér's  reading'  Gali^a%a*^^  hour.     But  liTs 
I  fW'*^^^^'"  *^'*  morning  was  vacant,  and  only  Laç^y 
ttttël  her  across  the  crystal  and  the  silver. 
■^  Gordon  tu?ned  lazy,  I  j»pnder  ?  "  the  eider  lady 
ilessly;  «it  is  something  tiew  to  miss  his  face  at- 
t>f  the  table.     Eric  and  hi^^ife  are  coming  to-day. 


^••pe 


the"e 


.,4,1. 


.     ^       "  One  grçws  so  bofcpd  of  perpétuai  sight- 
seemg.     I  shall  stay  at  hoMe  with  graiidmamma  Caryll." 

She  had  no  appetite  for  breakfast,  and  whenit  was  over 
she  ran  yp  to  say  good-moming  to  "ferandinamma."  No, 
Gordoïi  had  not  been  there  eithcr— his  niother's  first  ques- 
tion was  for  hinn.  .  ^ 
^  -•*  It  is  the  very  first  day  he  has  failed  to  pay  me  a  before 
breakfast  câll,"  Mrs.  Caryll  said,  with  a- half-laugh,  and  yet 
dissatisfied.     '^Can  he  hâve  gpne  out,  or  where  is  he  ?  " 

'*  I  do,,not  know,"  France  answered,  vaguely  uneasy  :  "  he 
was  not  down  to  breakfast." . 

"  Not  down "to  breakfast  ?"       '         * 

"He  was  absent  rather.latç  last  night,"  Miss  Forrester 
said,  speakmg  lightly  ;  "  nO  doubt  he  has  turned  sluggard, 
and  oversle^t  himself.  Susan,"  she  said  to  Mrs.  CarylVs 
nurse  and  maid,  who  «i^ered  at  that  moment,  "  do  vou 
know  if  Mr.  Caryll  is  still  in  his  room ?"    \        '  v 


'  Mr.  Caryll  went  out  three  hoùrs 
wom'an  answered.     "  So  I  heard  hi 
There  was  a  pause.  \  ^ 

Sow  very  strange,"   Fr 
lineasily  ;  "  how  -very 

But  ther^was  no  solution  o, 
=«ofe  on,  brtngifïg^  Erie=w»4=€rf„,,„^ 
bmnaire  as  ever,  Crystal  cjinging  to 


Aîiss  France,"  the 
^Notton  say."   y 

jinking,  i^ore  and 
irdon.    Whât  can  it 

la.    Thé  niornfog 

.  haridsomiB^'aiTCt'  ~^^ 

I,  silent,  shadow/. 


•\    A..r;'   '^^   -•    y'V^^     ■    ^«1 


t 


.ight- 

• 

over 

No,      , 

lues- 

"  '■ 

îfore 

'\ 

yet 

• 

"he 

\     ». 

îster 

■  * ,,  ' 

fard, 

•yH's 

•    V 

you 

the 

'i 

K: 

i^- 

and 

^ 

n  it 

■ 

[lîhg 

\. 

dè.- 

^ 

>wy. 

'V.v   . 

■m 

^èMt>. 

"% 


A  MORNINO   CALL. 


359 

And  Lady.  Dynely  alone  was  their  cû^mpanion  in  the  dayfs 
pleasuring  at  Saint  Cloud.  ■" 

"1  wish  you  were  coming,  France\"  Crystal  said,  in  à 
wistful  whisper.  Somehow,  in  France' s  strength  and  sunny 
brightness,  even  this  little  wilted  lily  seemed  to  reVive. 

'*  Not  to-day,  darling,'"  France  answered,  kissing  her.     "  It 
will  not  do'to  leave  grandmamnia  qùite  alone.,   Besides,- 
Saint  Cloud  i^an  old  story  to  me  and  rat^r  a  tiresome  one. 
We  will,  ail  meet  at  dinner  and  go  to  the  Qpera  aux  Italiens 
together."  > . 

.  .  "Has  Crystal's  éloquence  prevaikd,  France?"  Eric  says 
in  his  languid  way,  sauntering  up':>-.  **  No  ?  Then,"  with  a 
îlight,  half-contemptuous  ^gh,  "  the  case  is  hopéless  indeed.  ' 
When  a  woman  won't,  she  won't.  I  suppose  we  must  be 
resigned,  although  jpi^  absence  spoils  our  excursion. 
Corne,  madré,  corne,  sposo  mio.  By-by,  France — We  meet 
,  again  at  Philippii'  "  \ 

,   And  then  they  are  gone,  and  France  draws  a  long  breath 
"of  relief.     Gordon  will  be  hère  prèsentlyjl  àftd  they  mil  hâve 
a  long,  delicious  day  ali  to  themselves,  and  everything  will 
be  expiai  ned. 

Shfe  goes  ih>  to  Mrs.  Caryll's  room,  takes  a  favorite  bpok, 
seats  herself  by  a  window,  whence  no  one  can  enter  unper- 
ceived,  aiid  tries  to  read.  But  so  many  pepple  come  in  and, 
go  out,  so  many'carriages  and  fiacres  whï^H  up  and  down, 
that  her  attention  is  perpetually  distracted.  How  long  the 
hours  are— how  the  morning  drags-^will  he  «<?»»•'  come  ? 
Eleven,  twelve,  one  I  Will  he  retum  to  luncheâii  at  twot  ^ 
H|  hardli^^er  eats  luncheon,  but  surely  he  will  come. 
HtJw  d^zimgly  bright  the  sunshine  is— her  eyes  ache.  She 
rises  with,,  an  Imtjatient  sigh  and  closes  the  çuttàins.  A 
brass  batid  somewhere  near  is  thundering  fbrth%s  nïusic. 
They  ;arç  playing  one  df  Felicia's  popular  airs;  '  ÔKe  wishes 
they  would  ^tqp  ;  »the  noise  mfkes  \&Sc  head  âche.  Mrs. 
CaryHp  dozing  in  her  chair.  Thé  brazen  brayîng^of  the 
band  is  beginning  to  make  France  sleepy  tbo,  Just  as  her 
tired  éyes  cïosé,  and  her  head  droops  against' th^  hack  <À 

"lier  ehàir,  Suton  "KpssofHy  and  entera  the  room. 

"  Miss  France."    She  bas  to  fepeat  the  name  befbre  the 


V  k 


é. 


»        ^-^A 


'fo 


\^^^,^ 


•t 


t-ç  ^■' 


.     0 


'^' 


w<  MORNING  JCALL. 


i 

"Miss  France^there  is  a  lady  in  tUe  si  Ion  ta 
|''or  a  momçnt  her  heart  had  bounded. 


But, 


|A 

W\ 

''"À 

i^ 

rf^i 

Pb,/ 

360 

giti  looks  up. 
see  yoù." 

"A  lady." 
t)nly  a  lady  '    . 

"  Susan,"  she  irapatiently  exclaims,  "  hasfî't  Mr.  Gordon 
corne  yet  ?    Surely  he  must  be  in  his  roora  or—" 

"  No,  Miss  France,  he  hasn't  corne  yet.   !^nd  the  lady^ 
is  'waiting  in  the  salon — "  _    • 

•'  Who  is  she  ?  Where  is  her  ca^d  ?  î  am  not  dressed. 
I  don't  Mvish  to  see  any  one." 

"Shewould  not  give  her  name  ;  she  sent  up  no  card, 
She  said'fShe  wished  to  see  Miss  Forrester  at  once  on  very 
important  business." 

'•  Very  important  business  !  "  Miss  Forrester  rises,  open- 
Ing  her  hazel  eyés.  "  Important  business  I  "  Again  her 
heart  leaps — is  it  anything  about  Gordon?  "In  th^ salon, 
you  say,  Susan  ?     l'U  go  down  at  once." 

She  goes.  In  the  long,  cool  salon,  the  jalousies  are  half- 
dosed,  and^'iii  the  'dim,  greenish  light  a  lady  sits.  A  lady 
very  elegantly  dressed — /w^r-^d^ressedàfit  seems  to  France, 
her  face  hidden  by  a  close,  black  lace  veil. 

■"  You  wished  to.  see  me,  madame  ?  "  Miss  Forrester  sa^s 
gently,  and  marvelling  who  her  veiled  visitor  can  bè. 

The  lady  turns,  rises.  "Miss  Forrester?"  she  ^says,  in^ 
tefrogativeiy,  and  Miss  Forrester,  still  standing,  bows. 

"You  wished  to  see  me  on  important  business — " 

France  does  not  finish  the  sentence,  for  the  lady  quietl^ 
remo^Ècs  her  veil,  and  they  stand  face  to  face.      A  ve 
beautiful  and  striking  face  France  se^s,  and  oddly  famiKàr, 
though  for  the  moment  she  cannot  pla<;e  it.    Only  for  a  tno- 
ment,  then  she  recoils  a  step.  \    , 

"  Madame  Felicia  I  "  she  exclaims.  '*-  \  / 

"Madame  Felicia  !  "  the  actress  repeats,  with  a  giraceful 

stage  bow  and  a  coolly  insolently  smile.      "  Now  ypu  know 

why  I  did  not  send  up  my  name.    You  would  «lot  hâve  seen 

^ine."^  ■      -  '  --^ 

Miss  Forrestei  bas  recovered  herselC      SurpriSed  exce^ 
tatensely  curioug  she  U  «Iso^  b^t  outwa 
she  is  only  calmly,  quietly  coufteous. 


\ 


■'Vst'*jf'''4'Si^ 


'S^së^^msswm 


l-    > 


"'-  ■•;( 


fiiii 


r/ 


t 


A  MOHNING  CALL. 


361 


"  Vou  mistake,"  ehe  says,  in  thesame  coldly  gentle  \om  ; 

l 'vould  haye  seen  you.     May  I  ask  to  what  I  owe  this 
jnexpected  visit  ?  " 

She  seats  herself  at  a  distance,  near  one  of  the  window^ 
•nd  glances  at  her  Watch  as  a  hint  to  be  brief.  Madame 
ïehaa  takeS  the  hint.  The  coolly  insolent  smile  yet  lingers 
round  the  full,  red  lips,  the  yellowish  black  eyes  (like  a  cat's 
eyes,  France  thinks)  hâve  an  exultant,  triumphant  light. 

"I  will  not  detain  you  long,"  she  says  ;  «and  I  think 
what  I  hâve  to  say  wiU  not  Jjore  you.     May  I  ask— although  ' 
Iknow.  you  hâve  not— hâve  you  seen  Mr.  Gordon  CarvU 
this  morning ?"  "' 

France's  heart  gives  one  leap.  It  is  sometlÉlg  àbout 
Gordon  after  ail.  Her  darl^lace  pales  slightly  ;  anlshe  has 
to  pause  a  second  before  she  can  quita  steady  her  voie 

"And  may  /ask,"  she  say^  haughtily,^"in  what  wî 
concerns  you  ?"  *  ' 

"  It  concerns  me  much  moVe  nearly  than  you  think  "  the 
actress  answers.  "You  shalï  hear  presently.  I  know  you 
hâve  rtot  seen  hmi  this  raohiing,  else  you  wouldnot  be  sit- 
ting  hère  with  me  now.  I  thought  I  would  be  beforehand 
with  hiro,  and  I  am.  I  thought  he  would  hardly  hâve  the 
courage  to  corne  straight  from  me  to  you." 

^  The  |3lood  rushc^s  in  a  torrent  to  France's  face,  to  her 
temples.  v 

j «•  From  me  to  you  !"    There  is  a  great  greendÉÉeiÉyes- 
toimes  in  full  bloom  standing  behind  her.     IsfUs^et 
sickly  odor  of  the  flowers  that  turns  her  so  deathly  faint  now  ? 
"From  you  to  me,"  she  repeats;  ««I  don't  know  what  you 
mean."  •' 

"I  am  quite  sure  you  don't.      Mr.  Caryll  has  not  been 
visible  hère  this  morning  because  he  has  been  with  me.    He 
Jeft  me  just  one  hour  ané  a  haïf  ago,  ahd  I  dressed  at  once 
*|pnd  came  to  see  you.      You  should  hear  the  story  from  me 
ai  well  as  from  him.    I  was  reèolved  I  should  hâve  no  more 
.of  your  blâme  than  was  ray  due.     I  saw  you  in  the  box  last 
night  at  the  Varieties.    I  saw  you  often  last  spring  in  Lôn- 
àed  good,  and  brave,  and  nobte,aniaâUhàïïfi 


I  care  Uttle  fpr  tlie  opinion  of  ihe  world,  of  its  women 

16  '''■    , 


s4" 


-i 


ITT*-, 
■1^ 


4^. 


1    .-^jw 


*rj 


I 


»-H'* 


«j"  ■ 


^f 


#' 


362    #»«««p^:f^"-  ;   ". 

ticularly,"  with  i^recklèss  lâugh,  " it  is  iny  whimto  stand  as 
wçU  as  possible  with  you.  I  felt  sure  I  would  be  M^re 
him.     Men  do  not  hasten  to  tell  such  %  story  as  te  bas  tp 

tell  you."  .  ,       .  r\u 

Oh,  the  deàthly  faintness  of  thèse  jessamine  flowers.  Oh, 
the  horrible  clashing,  crashing  of  the  band,  whose  braymg 
seems  to  pierce  her  head.  For  a  moment  France  turns  sr- 
giddy  and  sick  that  she  cannot  speak.     The  actress  haï 

risé'ç  in  alarm>  r  •        .»      4 

*'  Miss  Forrester  !  you-  are  gomg  to  famt— .      r9 
But  FranceJKfts  her  hand  and  motions  her  t\)  be  *till. 
"Wait,*'    she    says,  almost  in  a  >^fc)er.      "You  tt; 

frightened  me.    I  am  ail  rightagain.  Tfow  „ 

She  sits  uprigtit  with  an  efifort,  clenches  her  haiids  togç 

in  her  lap,  and  sets  her  teeth.  ,  .  /,     „  j 

"  Go  on  ! "  she  sayï^almost  fiercely,  and  Ijbks  Madame 

Felicia  full  in  the  face.  '  J 

The  isolent  smilè,  the  exultant  hght,  h^e  died  out  of  the 
dark#fii(^|pf  the  dançer^    In  its  stead  afouch  of  pity  ha? 
coipe.     After  ail,  this  firl  is  to  suffer  as  she  suflFered  once— 
andffihe  remembers  wel|jvhat  Ma/  n?«fens. 
k     "*i[iss  Forrester,"  she  says,  gravely,    "dld  you  notice 
nothing  unusual  in  Mr.  Caryll's  looks  or  manner  last  night 
j|Uhe  Varieties— last  night,  ^hen  he  saw  me  ?" 
^b'id  she  ?    Md  she  not^  The  ashen  pallor  of  his  face,  th^ 
lïusky  tone  çf^  voice,  and  his  aWupt  departure  ! 
" Go  on,"  shestoirundçi: her^^ath 2îa:ain.       ' 


Madame 


le  fSSIi^^tMne  o*er  qu^ion,"    says 
You  are  to  marry  Cordon  Caryll?  " 

tjranswer  by.no  volition  of  her  own.  Even  at 
u...  ..iv/i»»".  it  strikes  her— what  an  odd  thing  that  she, 
Frande  Forrester,  should  be  s^tting  hère  answering  whatever 
question^  this  dancing-woman  Chopses  to  ask. 

"  You  know  his  «ory,  of  course— that  he  had  a  wife,  that 
he  was  divorced.  Ypu  think,  you  ail  thirik,  he  is  a  wid- 
ower. 

TC9|     ^  faillie   oaji 


and  duUy,  "  he  is  a  wictower." 


th<?«tme 


»■■.,; 


mss'jsssigg 


'•A. 


"'\," 


:^,. 


% 


'^w' 


/<  MOkmNG  èÀLL. 


363 


"  He  is  «<»/  a  widower,"  Madame  Felicia  cries,  with  01  le 
flash  of  herblack  eyes— *«no  more  than  I  am  a  widow.  ffé 
thought  me  dead,  thonght  me  killed  in  a  rail way  accident. 
I  wàs  not.  For  seventeèn  years  we  hâve  not  met.  Làst 
night  wé  lid.  Miss  Forrester,  I  am  Gordon  Car)'ll's  wife  !  " 
"  His  wife  I  '*  France  has  known  it  before  it  is  said. 
"  Hi3  wife  !  his  wife  !  "  How  oddly  i|  sounds.  She  is  con- 
scious  of  no  acute  pain-^her  principal  wish,  as  she  listens  al- 
most  dreamily,  is  that  that  hohrible  band  would  cease  and 
that  she  could  get  away  from  the  smell  of  thèse  jessamines. 
y  You  do  not  seem  to  understand,  Miss  Forrester,"  Fe- 
licia cries  sharply.  •«  I  repeat,  I  ara  Gordon  Caryll's  di- 
vorced  wife." 

"I  understand,"  France  says,  dreamily.     «  Go  on." 
"  Does  it  not  matter  to  you,  then  ?  "  madame  cries  still 
more  sharply.     "Would  you  marry  a  divorced  man  ?  " 
"  No.     Go  on." 

There  is  a  nioment's  silence.  It  is  évident  her  quiétude 
puzzles  madame.  It  cannot  puzzle,  her  any  more  than  it 
does  France  héfse^.  By  and  by^  she  feels  diinly,  she  will 
suflfer  horribly.;  Just  at  présent  she  feels  in  the  hazy  trance 
of  the  lotus  eaier,  listeniug  to  the  music  of  the  band,  looking 
at  the  sunshine,  lying  in  broad,  golden  bands  on  the  carpet, 
inhaling^the  $c§nt  of  the  jessamîhe.  fc*e  day  of  her  death 
those  wi}l  tui-n  her  sick  and  faint.       m  MÊL 

**  Go  on,"  she  says  quite  gently,  "AMo  get  beyond  thèse 
two  words,  and  madame  incisively  ^w  on. 
s  "  He  recognized  me  last  night,"  she  says,  heï  voice  hard- 
ening  as  she  sees  how  quietly  the  other  takes  it.  "  I  had 
recognized  him  long  before  since  I  saw  his  picture  at  thé 
Academy,  ♦  How  the  Night  Fell.'  Well— last  night  he  saw 
me,  and,  naturally,  knew  me  at  once.  I  hâve  nctt  changed 
much— so  they  tell  me." 

There  is  a  pause — madame  watching  her,  half  îrritated  by 

her  pr©found  calm.     Mi|s  Forrester  watching  the  flickerkag 

bars  of  light  on  the  ca;rpfêt. 

'       ** Is  itjher  trainin^or  is  it  want  of^ferfînp  ?"  tht»  «çtr^M 

î^ondèii.    «  No,  I  think  not  that.    TTiey  are  ail  alike—these 

aristocrats— j-ead^  to  stand  like  a  red  Indian  and  die  gam« 


,*"':,     43 


►  r 


f 


'^--    Jx/^s4¥a^  .:.; 


;!     <■ 


S4'"i**K. 


>■ 


1  i 


364 


A  MOÈ^^ING   CALL. 


I  fancy  his  slumbers  were  rather  disturbed  last  night,"  she 
goes  on,  with  a  hard  laugh  ;  "  he  looked  like  it  thiâ,  morning 
wheii  4ie  came  to  me." 

mUss  Forrester  lifts  her  eyes  from  the  carpet,  and  looka  at 
Felicia.     "  Why  did  he  go  to  you  ?  "  she  asks. 

"  Chiefly,  I  think,  because  he  wanted  to  mSke  certainty 
more  than  certain,  partly  because  he  knew  his  child— wr 
child— was  with  me,  and  he  wanted  to  see  her." 

A  pang  that  is  like  a  red-hot  knîfe-thrust  ^oes  thrpugh 
France  Forrester' s-  heart.  Our  child  I  Yes,  this  woman  haa 
been  his  wife,  is  the  mother  of  liis'thild.     She  gives  a  ^tle 

gasp.  ,  .     ^  '  < 

'•  You— you  let  him  see  her  ?  "' 

"  I  did  not  let  him  see  her — I  am  not  quite  a  fool.  As  I 
told  him  he  shall  see  her  one  day  to  his  cost.  She  is  raine, 
and  I  mean  to  keep  her.  His  nanïé  he  took  from  me— his 
child  he  cannot."  \\ 

There  is  silçnce  again.  The  pity  has  dted  eut  of  Felicia's 
face;  it  is  hard,  and  bitter,  and  relentless  as  she  speaks 
again. 

^'  AU  the  evil  he  could  work  me  he  did.  I  loved  him  and 
he  left  me— he  cast  me  off  with  scorn  and  hatred.  I  swore 
revenge  ;  but  what  can  a  woman — even  a  bad  woman — do  ? 
Look,  hère.  Miss  Forrester  !  "  Her  voice  rose  rapidly  and 
her  eyes  flashed.  "  In  marrying  me  he  fell  a  victim  to  a 
plot,  an  unscrupulous  plot,  I  don't  deny.  I  was  not  Major 
Lovell's  daughter  ;  I  was  no  fit  wife  for  such  as  he— I  was 
taken  from  the  lowest  concert-room  of  New  York  city.  When 
I  was  a  baby  I  was  thrown  upon  the  streets  ;  I  had  to  make 
oiy  own  living,  and  earn  the  crusts  I  lived  on.  I  knew  no 
mother,  no  father,  no  God.  To  make  money— to  wear  fine 
clothes  anyhow-— that  was  my  religion.  Lovell  came  and 
took  me,  and  Gordon  Caryll  saw  and  fell  in  love  with  nie. 
He  asked.no  questions — he  married  me.  And  I  loved  him 
with  a  love  that  would  hâve  been  my  earthly  salvation,  if  he 
had  let  it.  I  was  true  to  him,  in  thought^  and  word,  and 
action;  I  would  hâve  given  my  life  for  him.    Then  Lovell 

J,  and  dying  toid  iHS-story.    Liée,  and  hidmyself-É 
his  ûrst  fury  ;  1  knew  he  would  take  my  life  if  we  met    And 


\^ 


i 


'^f^t^ 


'è<. 


'9 


y 


A  MORNING  ÇALL. 


3<î5 


then.  months  after,  he  found  me  biit,  and  spurncd  me  as  he 
would  a  dog,  and  showed  me  the  decre^f  divorce,  and  Icft 
me  forever.  M.ss  Forrester,  I  wM  a^fSS,  I  know,  Lut  I  fell 
down  there  on  the  sands  whereTè  quitted  me  like  a  dead 
woman.     It  would  hâve  been  bett^r  for  him  and  for  you  lo- 

I  Yrâ  ^    *"°      '^*'^'"'  ^^"^^'  '*  '^  ^  ^"^  ^'^'^-    ^*-'  ^^^^ 
;      She,  broke  oflf  abruptly.     In  the  dark  eyes  looking  at  her 
.  5he  read  nothmg  but  a  great  and  ibfinite  pity. 
•       "Poor  soull"  France  said,  softly,  ««you  loved  him,  and 
werehiswife.     It  was  hard  on  yoi^.'' 

Madame  shrugged  her  shoulders.  ;  '''' 
««I  hâve  survived  it,  you  see.  Men  die  and  worms  eat 
them  but  not  for  lovel  That  ni^t  my  baby  was  born. 
1  he/e  is  the  story  You  hâve  heardlt  oftén  before,  no  doubt. 
He  »s  diyorced-I  cannot  stop  yoiii/  marriage.  Do  as  you 
will— only  I  had  to  conie  and  tell  yôu  this."  . 

She  arose  as  shé  spoke.     France  stood  ub,  tôo,  and  drew 
a  step  nearer.  '^'        '  ^^ 

"  Madame,"  she  softly  said,  wistful-  wonder  in  her  eyes. 

do  you— do  you  love  him  yel ?"  ' 

Once  more  madame  laughed. 

•  «  Love  1     Ma  foi  !  it  is  years  since  I  knew  what  the  word 

lueant.     Only  fools  e ver  love.     Not  I,  Miss  Forrester  !     1 

hâte  him  as  I  do-well,  not  the  devil-forf  hâve  nb  reason 

to  hâte  htm     No,  no  !  1 1  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if  I  did  : 

I  finished  svith  ail  that  forever  the  evening  we  parled  by  thé 

Québec,  shore.     I  am  to  marry  the  Prince  Di  Venturini  in  a 

î?°"  ,,'i!i'  "'*"y'"g  and  loving— well,  they  are  diflferent 
tnmgs  i^'OV 

•i^    jit     t^  .H^^T  °^  ^'"5  «*  "  France  asked,  hardly  know- 
»^g  wi|yw&  did  ask. 

;^nH^f?'^.yï*'î"u'  ^    Not  3iet-not  at  ail  if  I  can  heip  it 
And  I  don  t  thmk  he  ever  wiU.     Mr.  Caryll  will  not  telL  aftd  ' 
I.am  quite  sure  I  shall  not."  *»  *?" 

iShe  nioved  to  the  door  ;  on  the  threshold  she  paused. 

ngry  with  me  for  coming?"  «he  At^^i^y^^.,^ 


Kbruptly; 


U 


'•'v^'ri- 


.  ''1 


i 


^t 


MORNING  CALL. 

"Angry?"     France  echoed,   wearily.     "Oh^ft<^     why 

should  I  be?"  . ,     .     , 

Angry  !  No,  sh.e  was  angry  with  no  one.  She  felt  tired 
and  sick,  and  worn  out— she  would  like  to  be  alone,  to 
darken  her  room  and  lie  down,  and  get  away  from  the  dis- 
tracting  music  of  that  ceaèeless  bànd,  frOp  the  dazzling  glare 
ofthè  sunshine,  from^  the  heavy.odor  ôf  the  flowers.  But, 
angry— no.     A  touch  of  pity  crossed  agam  niadame  s  hard, 

insolent  béauty.  "  „      ,     ,  j       j 

"  I  ani  sorry  for  you,"  shè'  said.     "You  look  good  and 

gentle— you  deserve  to  be  happy.     »YeS,   I  aw^  sorry  for 

''^And  then  she  had  left  the  xg>om,  and  her  sUks  were  rust- 
ling  down  the  wide  stairway,  and  France  was  atone. 

Alone  !  She  leaned  her  folded  arms  on  the  Uble,  and  laid 
her  face  down  uport  them  and  drew  a  long,  tire,d  sigh.  It 
was  ail  over  ;  and  the  woman  was  gone,  and  out  of  France  s 
life  ail  the  happiriess  was  foiueyer  ggne,  too. 

Gordon's  wife  !     How  strangely  it  sounded.     She  was  t 
,  bave  been  that-.»he^ever  could  be  now.     If  he  were  de^ 
and  in  his  coffin,  she  could  not  be  one  whit  more  widowM 
^than  she  was.     TherIVas  a  dull  sort  of  âçhing  at  her  heart 
—but  no  acute  pain.  '  She  wjlfered  at  hêr  pwn.torpor. 

Thé  band  was  striking  uMTother  tune,  She  could  not 
endure  that.  She  arose  and  toiled  slowly  and  weanly  up  the 
stairs  to  her  own  room.  The  great  hôtel  was  very  stiU.  She 
re^ched  hercharaber,  lowered  the  blinds,  threw  herself  face 
downward  on  the  bed.  '  >,  «•^ 

"  Gordon's  wifé  !  Gordon's  wife  1  "  Over  and  over,  like 
some  refrain,  the  words  rang  in  her  eàts.  Then  they  gl^w 
fainter  and  fainter— died  çut  aUogether  ;,  £nd,in  the  inidstol 
bér  great  trouble  France  feil  fast  asleejK         ♦  ^ 


■î-'r 


*ï 


^\* 


;S*;.^ 


>K. 


,i 


,■* 


■»■■ 


V'.- 


:,!♦ 


1 


f 


jà^ 


Vi  -*H,V 


'>^> 


'M-'U  .'' 


:,f 


v^^ 


^1,     1. 


^^■•■fS'Jf 


red 
to 

dis-   . 

But,      '„  '       \ 

1 

and    '     \      " 
for    • , 

ust-    / 

laid                « 
leàdî^'-^jw,-    : 

wed,  ^^m 

leart    '^^^^< 

< 
<. 

1»*/       ^ 

Dthe    ^^^■ 
She 

face-    ■■'  •  • . 

like 
glfew 
Istof 

■  ...  *  ^^ 

'  .»  " 

fi. 

■?î 


o        ;v 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"THE   PARTING  THAT  THEY    HAD." 

HE  last  amber  glitter  of  the  sunset  waa  gleaming  \ 
through  the  closed  jalousies;  and  lyitig  in  broad 
yellow  bars  on  the  carpet,  when  France  awoke. 
Awoke  with  a  gr'eat  start,  suddenly,  •  and  broàd 
awake,  her  horrible  trouble  flashing  upon  her  with  the  viyid- 
ness  and  swiftness  of  lightning.  Gordon's  wife  was  alive  ; 
sAe  could  never  be  that  ;  she  must  give  him  tip  at  once  and 
forever.  Then  a  pi^siorj^te  sensé  of  desperation  and  miset-y 
seized  her.  V 

"  I  canMt  !  I  cannot  \*'  she  cried  out,  tlenching  her 
hands  and  flinging  hersejrface  dowtiward  among  the  pillows. 
"Oh,  I  cannot  give  him  up  !  "  ^ 

The  yellow  light  flickered,  fade4  g>ew  gray.  One  hv  o»\e 
the  golden  "bars  aslant  the  carj^et  slid  out  »>f  sight,  len 
minutes  niore  and  the  closed  room  wa«  iilii|i>Ht  dark.  And  i 
slowly  the  wild  tempeit  cOystv^rical  «ob»  wà»  subsiéing,  toc 
violent  to  be  Içng-livéd,  hiPFvance  Forrester  did  not  move. 
Presently  it  died  away  aLbPgether,  and  kneeling  by  the  bed- 
side,  hèr  face  -bowed  in  Jier  hands,  she  was  se«kin(f  jbn*, 
strengtl\  to  bea|  her  bittersouow  where  strength"  alçMe  i»n 
be  fdttnd.      .       .  ;  S 

.«^Th<jru  w|K)se  life  wisis  ail  trouWe,"  France's  souPtried, 
"  helt»  me  to  beaV  this-l  "  i  %*  ' 

Np  thought  hàd  evj^  conie  to  her  tha^he  wal  frec— that  * 
legally  s"he  niighjt  becpme«his  wife  to-niorro*  tn  ail  honor   *    , 
brfpre  the.>world.     Héf  Fiei^h  mptber  had  reared  hqr  îjpi  a   ,•' 
faim  which  te&ches  that  "dlifj>rce.  is  vnpossible  —a  ifâitK  Which*'..  >;• 
holdts  ittarriâge^^  sacrameht,  too  liply  to  be  broken  by  law  6( 
man,  iii  which,  "until  deatl)  dofli  »e.i^»çt;"  îsjneant  in  th«.      • 


\ 


r     1 


AT     /  fuIle^AnTmwt'awlllT  sëA^  of  th¥wdS[s.    Hi?|^ne7n«^ 


'  ♦ 


•!% 


mBm 


^m 


,-3%^  A^ 


^^  ,*  ^*   iW-^'  ^~  <»  r  ^r-v  .n . 


à. 

■m 


W  '■'^''' 


368  "7!«ff  PARTING   TffAT  THE  Y  HAD** 

'    r^if  '^^"^'  ^^J^ough  she  were  PrincessJ)i  ^enturini  within 
the  hour— and  she  and  Gordon,  even  astriends,  must  meet 
no  more     Friends  l    Ah,  no,  they  could  never  meet  as  that  •     ' 
and  so  they  must  meet  just  once,  and  say  good-by  forever!  . 

bhe  got  up  at  last,  utterly  exhausted  in  body  and  mind; 
How  still  the  vast  hôtel  was.  How  dark  the  room  had 
grown.  She  drew  up  the  blinds  in  a  sort  of  pânic  and  let  in 
the  gray  Jight  of  evening.  It  was  almost  night.  Perhaps 
txordon  had  corne  and  was  waiting  for  her.  She  must  go  to 
hira  at  once,  at  once. 

"Oh,  my  poor  dear,"  she  thought,  "you  hâve  .borne  so 

bîow  ?^'^"     "^'^^  "°^  ^^^^  ^^^"  ^^^^^^  ^^^^  '^^*'  •^^"«'■«st 

She  went  down  stairs  without  pause.  If  he  had  returned 
at  ail,  he  would  be  in  the  salon;  he  would  not  tell  his 
mothèr  until  he  had^.told  her— that  she  felt.  She  never 
stopped  to  thmk  of  h*  white  cheeks  and  swolleh  eyes  •  he 
was  alone  and  m  tro^uble,  and  she  must  go  to  him. 

Yes,  he  had  come.  As  she  softly  pushed  the  doo'r  dpen  she 
saw  hmi.  He  was  sitting  where  she  had  sat  three  hours  ago. 
Three  hours  !  was  it  only  that  ?  Three  years  seemed  to 
hâve  passée!  smce  this  morning.  He  sat,  hîç  folded  anrts  on 
the  table,  his  head  lymg  on  them— his  whole  attitude  de- 
spairmg  and  broken  down. 

He  did  not  hear  her  as  she  entered  and  crossed  the  room, 
neither  heard  nor  saw,  until  she  laid  Ode  hand  lightly  on  his 
shoulder  and  spoke.  . 

"  Gonlop  !  " 

Then  he  looked  up.  To  her  dying  day  that  look  would 
haunt  her,  so  full  of  utter,  inanité  despair.  Those  hageard,  ' 
hopeless  eyes  might  almost  hâve  told  her  the  stor^ha^ 
Madanie  Fekcia  never  come.  Haggarfl  and  hopeless  as  they 
were,  they  were  quick  even  in  this  suprçme  hour  to  sec  the 
change  m  her.    *  ^^  • 

.    «  You  hâve  been  crying?"  ^e  said.       ^fc"\ 
Jfc>  ail  the  montjis  they  had  been  togethWlkhad  nevèr 
semithe  trace.of  tears  on  France's  happy  face  before.     The 
sight  of  thoae  swollen  eyelids  anrf  t^Ar.M^ft^  ,y^^^^y^  f^^rnrk 


hlm  now  as  with  a  sen&e  of  actual  phvsicaï  païnr 


•Av. 


4 


t* 


"TffE  PARTING   THAt/ THEY  H  AD. 


3O9 


1»t» 


"What  is  it?"  he  asked.  "/lU  news  travçjs  apace,'  bu} 
I  hardly  think,"  with  a  harsh  sprt  of  laugh,  "  mine  can  liave 
reached  you  already.     France,  my  own  love,  what  is  rt  ?  " 

But  she  shrank  away,  draw^hg  her  hahd  frona  his  grasp,  and 
covering  her  eyes  with  the  dth^f. 

"  Oh,  Gordon,  hush  I  "  she  cried  out  ;  "  I  cannot  bear  it. 
I ,"  with  a  great  gasp,  *'  l  know  ail." 

"Alll"  His  face  turned  of  a  dùU,  grayish  pallor,  his 
eyes  never  left  her.  "  France,  do  you  know  what  you  are 
saying?     What  do  you  mean  by  ail  ?" 

"  That— that "     No,  her  dry  lips  wôuld  not  speak  the 

words.     «'  Madame  P'elicia  has  been  hère,"  shè  said,  with  a 
quick  desperate  gesture,  ané  walked  away  to  the  window. 

The  bright  street  below  was  dazzling  with  gas-lights— 
golden  stars  studded  the  violet  February  sky.  Carriages 
fiUed  with  brilliant  ladies  flew  ceaselessly  by— the  brilliant  life 
pf  the  most  brilliant  capital^îîof  the  world  was  at  its  height. 
And  France  leaned  her  foréfiead  ^against  the  cool  glass  and 
wondered,  with  a  duU  sicknesf  of  heart,  if  only  this  time 
yesterday  she  had  indeed  been^ipppier.than  the  happiest  of 
theni  ail. 

Gordon  Caryll  had  risen  from  his  chafr  and  stood  Jooking  at 
her,  actually  dumbfounded  by  Mèr  lasê'  words.  In  whatever 
way  she  niight  hâve  heard  the  tcpjthsomè  truth,  he  had  never 
thou^ht  of  this— that  sAe  would  hâve  Ihe  untôld  audacity  to 
force  aîi  entrànce  het*. 

y  France  !  "  he  exclaimed,  a  dark  flush  of  intehse  anger 
crimsoning  his  face;  "do  jott  mean  what  you  say?— that 
woman  has  dared  corne  hère?" 

*'  Yes/'  she  sai<^,  weanly.  "  Ah,  don't  be  angry,  Gordon. 
What  does  it  mattef,  àmx  I  tmmtt  kijow  it  ?— what  différence 
Who  tells  the  taie?  ilMr  is  not  »,  blâme,  poor  soûl,  for 
being  tdlve.'  • 

*'  PûÉ»  soûl  î  '"  he  nspcatt,  io  a  ittange,  tense  tone.  "  Do 
you  mem  Felicm^  th«t  utterly  vile  and  abandoned  é-eaturé? 
14  it  potHble  you  piiy  A^f"         % 

"  Wtth  ail  my  heart,  GordoiBU.-roore,  alrriost,  than  I  pity 


.wlf,  uiul  I  du  piiy.uiy self,"  Fiance  brôi,  wirhu' 


m  pati: 


f* 


pathwg  in  her  voice,    •*  (  was  »o  bappy— so  happv  1  " 


."^i 


..    4 


■  .■..■^T&-.. 


W'f'j'' 


t...." 


THE  PARTING   THAT  TUE  Y  H  AD. ^* 


stood  for  a  moment  silpnt— struggling,  it  senned,  with 
rebelliou's  heart.     The  angry  glow  faded  from  hia 
^ace.    In  its  place  an  infinité  sàdness  came. 

"Whçn  did  she  corne?.  Will  you  tell  me  whât  shé 
said?"  he  asked.  ' 

"Bhe  came  this  afternoon— aboirt  three.  It  seems  like  a 
whole  lifetime  apo,  soraehow^,"  France  answeted,  in  the  same 
weary  way,  passmg  her  hand  across  her  eyes  ;  "  and  she  tôld 
me  she  was  your-^yôur  wîfe."    ■ 

And  then  suddènly  tier  strength  breaks  down,  her  voice 
faltefs  and  fails,  and  she  clenches  her  hands  together,  and  is 
silent.         ^  t 

"She  is  nb  wife  pf  mine i"  he  says,  fiercely.  "  Years  agb 
the  law  freed  me  from  the  maddest  marriage  ever  madman 
màde.  Francç,  why  shoiild  we  sacrifice  the  happiness  of 
our  whôle  Hyes  to  her?  Let  us  sefher^t  défiance.  Sheis 
no  more  to  me— and  you  know  it— than  any  of  the  painted 
women,who  dànced  with  her  last  night.  She  shall  nof  part 
lis.  She  shall  not^/ilight  your  life  as  she  has  mine.  France, 
I  cânnot  give  you  up— don't  look  at  me  like  that— I  tell 
you  I  will  notgfw*.^ on  up.     You  shall  be  my  wife.'^  ^ 

She  made  nostruggle  as  he  held  her  hands.  She  stood 
and  looked  at  him,  in  grave  calm. 

"  Ijet  me  go,  Gordon  T*  is  ail  she  says,  and  with  a  soi-t  of 

groan,  he  o\^y^.     **  I  cUn  never  be  your  wife  now,  and  you 

.  knqw  it.     l'àrh  sorry  for  you,  sorry  for  payself,  sorrier  than 

1  can  say  '^  6nly  if  jure, are  to  part  friends,  never  speak  to  me 

again  like  that"  ., 

He  turned  fçom  her,  his  brows  knit,  his  lips  set. 

"Forgive  me,"  he  said,  bitterly;  "I  will  not  offend 
again.  Jt  is  easy  for  you,  hb  dbubt,  to  givé  me  up  ;  I  was 
but  adoubtful  prize  from  fifst  to  last — no  oneknows  it 
better  than  I  ;  but  you  see  it  isnoi  quite  so  e^y  for  me. 
ï  hâve  grown  to  love.  yûM,  m  the  mià  dnd  idiotie  way  it» 
whiçh  I  hâve  donc  most  things  ail  my  life  ;  and  that  woman 
(whora  you  honor  with  your  pity,  by  the  i»ay,)  has  made 
«uch  an  utter  failure  of  the  beat  part  of  it,  that  noi^,  when". 
hope  and  happiriess-were  niine  ohce  more,  it  seems  iath«>r 


J"^,  <*■ 


p 


l 


#• 


^^  i 


"Hard  she  shouW  «<>pj'up  to  n^kfc  ai^  end  c£  it  «14,    j  hayr 


m. 


„.»♦ 


.  •^.  i»' 


^'•^•.: 


}^-: 


■/•^ 


,^  iHfHiiiSfâ,:  Haum^i.ftmim: 


shê 


^^'^è  iW^^lf    'i^Ft?? 


l 


**  •^\t\'  "î^^  ^i*jj^», 


.i'i>. 


ti 


TffE  PARTING  TffAT  THEY  ffAD.»  3,^, 


it 


She.looked  dow/î  at  him  with  '  eyes  A  sorrovyful  wonJer 
and  reproach.     Was  this  Gordon-her  lW>,  her  «man^ 


— »V 


o( 


he  murmurs.     «-Forgive  me,  France  ;  ypu  are  right,  as^ou 
always  are-you  are  ail   that  is   hrave,   and   noble,  and 

'JeTstek"  ^^~     "^^^  "''""*^"  ^!^^  y^'^y 

'«.^«^i!"®  K*?^""^  i*^sile,nce,  and  both  look  out  at  the  gasiil 
;gmoranfta  below.  while  the  hçavy  minutes  pass.     So  lonir 

"^utï"""^  ïl''  ^''^^  ^^^'^^^  8^°^*  frightened,  and  breaJti 
n  wicn.an  enort.  '  .  ■■) 

'«Y9u^n<?wherlastnight?"sheaA8.  \  1 

-htoL-iru*^'"  ^^  ^"swçrs,  in  â^dull,  élow  way;  "  the  very 

St,Ti?^  W^fA  ' France,  dô you  rwoHect  the  night 

nfirf ^.?^"^'^^*  ***"  ^***  *"*""'"  ^    I  «a'«^  her  portrait  that 
»'ght— the    Yignyttfp>  ypu    ^rmep-*^    —  *^  "    ■    -  •■ 


^i-L' 


Ht    H 


((  ' 


"  Easy  for  me  !  "  she  repeated,  her  lips  quiaerin*  «  Ybu 
were  but.a  .doubtful  prize^  fron^^  fi?stf  Ah,  I  haye 
not  deserved  that.  I  don't  knovTfhether  hearts  breakL 
I  suppose  «ot.  haï  1  feel  as  if  mine  were  breaking  tè- 
night  See,  GordS"û>,^l  love  you  so  dearly-so  greatlî, 
that  there  ,s  nothmgOn  earth  J 'would  not  do  for  you!  suffô;  • 

divorced  wife  hves,  is  to  my  mind  one  of  the  blackest,  most 
neinous  cnmes  any  woman  canicdmmk.  AU-  my  life  I  will 
love  you-I  could  not  help  that  if  I  would^all  my  life  I 

enough  to  bear  without  that."         °        '  "^" 

Her  words,  her  tone,  tpuch  him  strangely  and  tenderly.      ^ 
iÏMnf°^?'K       -^'"^  temptation^ach  dies  out,  nevertô 
heSks  u     ^^  '"  ^"'^^  the  shado^of  a  smUe  on  his  lips  as 

"' I  could  not  love  thee,  dear,  so  mach- 
Loved  I  not^onoir  more  i  »  »» 


*      >% 


V'. 


•ralUes;  and.  I  fBcognized  the  face.    But  I  would  W  be- 


îf-' 


1  . 


V     .^H) 


♦^ 


T^^'tT  «î-  '•%'; 


i-J*.;*!^**^,'  ^-f^'^ 


/ 


372  "'^SEPARTIlfG  ThMtHEY  HAD.»        '      ' 

lièvè  jr— it  seemed  tbo  horrible  to'be  true      It  was  .nm^ 
— QPewho  resenibted  her,  I  said  to  mvself    :,  llZ- 
.  haps:  butshewasdeadlKleadbiyoXtSu     uT^^ÎZ 
beiiare  what  we  wish  to  belifve.     I  hever  thoulhr  nf  ^h 
ag^  until  she  stood  before  me  on  the  stlge  "       ^     °^  ''"' 

"We  ail  suffer  for.the  sins  of  others,"  France  savs  an.l 
somehow  savs  it,  bravely.     "  We  might  ail  sS  ta^^  the 
'  S'5^^  '^'.  %?^  °^-'  Cusaders  L  our  staff  o'f  streng 'h 
sinT  it  if  n/in  'nevitable-don't  let  us  talk  of  it_: 

Y^s^wL"  thlrrn^^înfngT.'^'^  °'^^''^"^'  '^"^  -^— 
„  "  î.  '!■"'■    t'  ""*'^''  ">  "■*'  assurance  doublv-  sure  as  thev 

S^w^rdtrrrdrCure;:f"rx"-/r' ■ 

an  end  tS  Î  TT'^""'  "?"^  ^  '^"^^  ^»  hope  was  at 
oJa  ^t^^"'  ^  ^^^  «"^"^ed  seventeen  vears  a^  in 
Canada  was  before  iue-Madame  Felicia.  I  lingeredTut  a 
few  moments— rt  was  her  hour  of  veneeance  3  7  ,w  l 

Snoth^p.?^'"*''^  *""  theeJdTwXhe"rii<S'';r,^ 
her'u^'^*"^  '°'^-  ■"'■    °'''  ^"'<'°  '  "  *=  «°"l<i  but  givel^ 

mrt    Vrr^  Tw  -       ^  ."  °°  ^'  guardian  for  any  young 
Ai  bnefly  as  pn.,.iM^  r-Ti^rll  nu    iuftliL  uud  uumici  w 


"J^Vj^    %'" 


t 
t 

I 

a 
g 

c 

t( 
F 

in 
w 


*  ^ 


_    -       î'^prft    ^.^l^,A 


-^jm^-^ 


',  f 


;  •■  rm  PAItTING  TUAT  TJKy  HAO.-  37 

btt  *e7  ""'  "='"  ""^"^  ■•»'  bringing  _,he  gin  .0 

.n.sMs"ïx  his.  '  YS/^rLv'  ''r  "°  ■"^"  i— ■■' 

France?    All?"'~..     ^  ™'  "'"  "»'"' ■»/ telling  hiniall, 

•      Your-  mother,  of  course      au 

will  be  a  blow  to  her.'?  '  ^0°^  grandmainma  !  it 

'  J5^*^a"ght  at  her  words. 
;;  Cxordon  you  knowr  you  must."  / 

stay  with  your  mother.  of  co„r«r    f  '  ■..     f  X°"'  P'*"=«  '» 
totake  me  back  .o  England  a,  o„ce"  """  "'  '''''''  ''^'""J' 

once  Se      No!  l'^m  .'S.  wt^K ''tf ""'•     "  "<"■«!-  »>« 
•tely-to-morrow  ••        *^  '"  ''*  ">=«  »>  !  and  immedi- 

they  must  say  good-by  and  forever  I"  ^Vt  - 


»  A         ■ -^  6""«j-uy  ana  îorever 

A  carnage  whirledupbeforethehor*.?      Ti,    ^ 
»nd  Eric,  lookincr  nn..»^«--u"  V"^  ™- .  Thç  door  0|>en^  ^ 

Dy  his  day's  ••  on  dr.ty."/ 


France—"  '      '^  "  '""'•  ^  "l»"  "ot  »ee  Her  again. 

«  Ijve  bestXTnl„rb5r,i";ïf  fJL=  "?,'?'"=  "■>  'he  fe« 
■•gh.  Gordon  I»  7h-cdu\     A   ■^^"'l't'S ''■''' ^"^ 


m 


374  ">W-fi  PARTI NG   TUÂT  THE  Y  ffAD*>  ^ 

•    *  '■ 

"  You  will  Write  to — to  your  motber  ?  "         X 

*'  Yes,  I  will  Write.  I  will  sefe  her  now  and  say  good-by 
I  will  see  Dennison,  too,  befdre  I  leave  Paris.  Oh,  niy 
France  !  my  France  !  hoW  can  I  give  you  up  !  " 

There  were  footsteps  and  voices.in  thé  hall — pn  the  stairs. 
One  moment  and  the  Dynelys  would  be  upon  them. 

"  Goôd-by,  France  !  good-by  !  good-by  !  " 

And  then  he  was  gone.  And  France,  breathless,  and  white, 
had  fallen  upon  the  sofe,  feeling  as  tfcough  the  wh(^e  world 
had  corne  to  an  end. 


C 


I»  '  ■        -^'' 


VY 


\' 


S. 


4 


<s 


\ 

^ 


>^:a* 


i 


\ 


•^ 

ï 


tik.-tiii?L  'i&.'-,ÀJtAt&4i 


^-^r- 


V 


C 


^ 


I    » 


d-by 
njy 

bairs. 


hite, 
orld 


\ 


'\     . 


CIÎAPTER  ^ 

'ir  ANV  CALM,   A  CAUl  D|SPAIR." 

[Fthey  would  not  corne  in,  if  shecould  be  alone— that 
seemed  the  only  thought  of  which  France  was  con- 
scious,  asshe  lay  there,  utterly  unàble  for  the  time 
being  to  speak  or  move,  knowing,  in  a  dazed  sort 
of  way,  what  a  ghastly  face  the  wax-lights  would  show  them. 
Uh,  to  bé  alope— to  be  alone  I  "* 

She  had  her  wish.    A  swish  of  silk,  a  flutter  of  pérfume, 

the  saloon  dooi*  flung  wide,  and  Lady  Dynely's  voice  saviac. 

'  impatiently  :  j     j      j  /s. 

"AU  darkness,  and  cold»KP,  and  solitude.  Where  can 
they  be.?  where  is  France  2*^ 

"  With  Mi:s.  Caryll,  raampia,^  Crystal's  soft  vdîce  suggests. 
•  It  looks  dreary— that  great,  gilded  saloon  :  let  us;  go  up 
tolyour  boudoir."  •>  B       l' 

So  they  go,  and  France  fcels  as  though  she  had  eséaped 
some  great  danger.    She  riseâ»  feeling;stiff  and  strange,  and 
gropes  her  way  out  through^he  darkness,  and  up  to  her  own 
room.     She  has  to  pass  Mrs.  Garyll's -^dooi:  ;  she  pauses  a  < 
moment,  while  a  passionate  longing  to  enter  there,  at  ail 
nsks,  to  look  on  his  face  once  iriore,  eveh  to  bidhim  stay,     . 
seizes  her.     Her  wedding  day  is  so  neaf— oh,  so  near— and 
they  hâve  been   so  mfinitel)jJiappy  togçther.    Whàt  right 
has  that  wicked,  dancing,  pail^  woman.  to  corne  and  tear 
them  apart?    For  a  moment  she  listens  to  the  tempter, 
then  she  claàps  her  hands  over  her  eyçs,  and  rushes  up  to 
her  room.     Lights  are  burning  hçre  ;  çhe  locks  the  doqr,  and 
throws  herself  on  the  bed,  there  to  lie  motionless,  sleepless,- 
m  the  long  night  throuA' 

The  Djrhejgg^ij^l^jl^  1^  iccmn, 

whar  has  becoïne  of-<MBarylls  and  Mis^  Forfestçr.    Ux%. 


Vi^k 


'-hi 


4f 


fef 


376         "//^  v4Arr  CALJH,  A  \£ALM  DESPAJlt.'* 

Caryll's  rooin  is  forbidden — her  mistress  is  ill  to-night,  the 
maid  gravely  tells  Lady  Dynely.  Even  she  cannot  be  ad- 
mitted.  Miss  Forrester's  door  is  locked,  and  Miss  Forrester 
may  be  deaf  or  dead  for  ail  the  attention  she  pays  tp  knocks 
or  calls.  It  is  really  very  odd,  and  Lady  Dynely  wopders 
about,  it,  ail  through  the  rather  duU  family  dinner,  to  her 
son  and  daughter.  4 

Rather  dull  !  It  is  horribly  du  11  to  Eric.  He  forfeits  a 
banquet  at  Francetti's  this  evening,  with  half  a  dozen  congé- 
niai  spirits,  for  this  "  bosom-of-his-family  "  sort  of  thing,  and 
worse  still,  forfeits  his  stall  at  the  VariétéSy  to  do  escort  duty 
for  his  harem,  to  the  Opéra  aux  Italiens.  But  since  he  is 
in  for  it,  he  does^  it  with  tolerably  good  grâce,  and  Crystal's 
moonlight  little  face  lights,  and  smiles  corne  to  the  pale 
She  says  little,  but  she  is  happy.  Eric  has  been  hei 
owh  ail  day — will  be  her  very  own  until  noon  to- 
irçow.  Beyond  that  shê  does  not  look — "  unto  the  dav, 
day." 
Dinner  ends,  and  they  go  to  the  opéra.  Patti  sings,  and 
the  grand  opéra  house  is  brilliant  with  ladies  in  marvellous 
toilettes.  If  France  were  only  hère,  Eric  thinks,  as  he 
struggles  manfully  with  his  tenth  yawn,  ^  would  not  be  so 
bad,  but  a  mân  cast  over  wholly  to  the  tender  niercies  ofjiis 
mother  and  his  wife,  is  an  object  of  compassion  to  gods  and 
men.- 

About  thç  time  thcDynely  party  take  their  places  in  their 
private  box  on  the  grand  tier,  Gordon  Car>11  opens  the  door 
of  his  niother's  room,  and  passes  out. 

He  goes  up  to  his  room,  where  his  valet  awaits  him,  and 
gives  his  few  orders.  A  portmanteau  is  to  be  packed  at 
once — he  (the  valet)  is  .to  follow  with  the  rest  to  Liverpool, 
before  the  end  of  the  weék.  That-is  ail — and  the  man 
listens  with  an  immovable,  wooden  face,  outwardly,  in  direst, 
blankest  wonder  v/ithin. 

his  niaster  départs,  •'  if  this  hère 

ht  we  was  going  to  be  noarried, 

and  now  we're  up  and  hoflf  'ol 

hoverjto  Liverpool.    I  wonder 


"Blessed,"  he  says,  as 
ain't  à  rum  go  !     I  thou 
at  the  British  Hembass 
foot,  with  ail  our  luggaj 
=<vfeere^?ego  Iwfrerthat 


»  >.  ^f  ■ 


■  m.^^iiwa 


"? 


■■.-i'V  '■''  ■  ■ 


V- 


■%■• 


/ 


•«//  AJVy  CALAf,   A    CALM  DESPAIX» 


Nevada- 


. were  going  to  Amen^nnce  again^to  California- 

But  Hfe'j/?   ^  À     ^°/  t<^geé-that  could  never  be'l 

w^     ÎM    '^^"^^d'  amid  perpétuai  hàrdship  and  adventure 

am,d  wUd  rçgions  and  wilder  men.  would  be  more  ea   iJ 

dragged  out  w.thout  hope  than  else^here.  ^ 

Her  whnï  h  '^■'  °°  .^his  match,  ar,d  it  was  never  tobè 

"  I  wôuld  rather  gô,"  he  had  said  ;  "  not  to  forget,  not  to 
sufTer  less-I  do  not  hope  that,  I  dô  not  even  wish  it     h  ,î 

nSe""°i?^  '"'  '^V"^  "°"'^^^'  theSX'hL'  w 
ensue.    ,1  am  a  coward,  if  you  like,  but  I  underwent  the 

Dausï  ''?T  w-n  f  '^  ^°u  ''•''''"  ^"  ^^'^'  ^f^«^  a  moment's 
?.n  .  .  ^i^'  stay  wuh  you,  and,"  another  pause.  '•J/i^r 
can  return  to  England  with  Lucia  Dynely  " 

But  the  molher,  whose  life  was  bound  up  in  him,  clasped  - 
herarmsabouthisneck,  andanswerçd:  '    '  ""'^"P^"^ 

You  must  go,  Gordon.     France  is  right— she  can  never 

fo'r Cb'ofh'  "v''  ^'^^  "°'"^"  "^^^'  -^-  parling  is  bes 
S^u  "  ""''  ^°^  ^"^  '"^y  "^^^^"'«  Wessing  be 

^   And  then  there  had  been  a  parting,  so  sad.  sd  solemn 

^o?f  nfc  u^^  fierce  «rrath  and  hot  rébellion  had  died 

ver^  «.1.'°'""*'°''' '^''"  ^^^  "°'"^-     He  had  left  the^otel, 
'  wîsT  ïnctrg'Jd^'^^'  '  ^"^^  ^^'^^"  °'^  ^'  ^^-'  ^"^  °^he^' 
He  must  see  Dennison  before  he  left.     He  went  to  the 

seen  a  face  I  knour  since  noon,    Was  at  your'placermd 


^%à'â 


t\-4 


\iA 


\ 


î 


è*ii".<;  îi.Tfg 


'  "     <-   , 

•« 

' 

( 

-^t            ^^.  _ 

*     f 

f> 

.  ' 

.- 

'                .'              "■      l 

/         ' 

■•■5  ■ 

' 

^'  .': 

.    A                               ..f 

•           -    -^    '            - 

• 

/ 

,/■-  -. 

■^-                                                   -'     ,' 

■■1 

^^^^1 

♦ 


V 


j 

i 

f 

; 

1 

:.. 

», 

1 . 

. 

>i 

• 

'      • 

*« 

(y 

f 

..■'  i   _, 

,  ' 

•■ 

^ 

t 


r     .     ') 


\y 


\ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


l.l 


2.0 


■  40 


11.25 


1.8 


U    11.6 


II 


C^ 


// 


4. 


// 


'*  A^l? 


'^ 


<^  4i, 


y. 


% 


MiobMaphicr— 

Saenœs 
Corporation 


WEST  MAIN  STREET 
WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 
(716)  873-4503 


M'i^  ,  }^^ 


i!  '^' 


A3^Fî^%r«!Sf'^?^^?^:yf^ 


.*• 


p>-.''-'  ■*  ' 


378 


•*/F  ANY  CALM,  A  CALM  DESPArRV 


p9t  - 


found  the  family  invisible— dead  or  sleeping.  Eric  is  doing 
the  rAAr  of  Master  Tommy  Goodchild— trotting  out  thc 
raadre  and  Crystal,  and  making  a  martyr  of  himself,  I  know. 
But  I  say,  old  boy,  anything  wrong,  you  know  ?.  On  my  life, 
now  I  look  again,  you  seem  awfully  seedy." 

"  We  can  talk  in  the  street,  I  suppojse  ?  "  Caryll  answer», 
abruptly,  and  taking  his  arra.  "  I  hâve  soniething  of  im- 
portance to  say  to  you.  Corne  this  way.  Denni^on,  l'in 
off  to-morrow  !" 

"  Off?"  Terry  repeats  the  word  and  stares. 

«Off  for  good  and  ail— to  return  no  more— to  the  othèt 
end  of  the  world.  It's  ail  up  betf  een  me  and— Terry,  can't 
you  guess  ?  I  thought  you  did  last  night.  Mad«me  Felicia 
is  my  divorced  wife."  — 

There  is  a  pause,  a  speechless,  breathless  pause.  Mr. 
Dennison  looks  at  the  moon,  the  stars,  thesky,  the  streets, 
the  gaslights,  the  people,  atid  ail  spin  round.  At  last,  '«  By 
Jove  !  "  he  breathes,  and  is  still. 

Carylljdoes  not  speak— his  mouth  is  set  ngid  and  hard 
behind  his  beàrd.  They  walk  on,  and  the  silence  grows 
uncomfortable.     Terry  in  desperation  breaks  it  first. 

."  I  thought  she  was  dead,"  is  what  he  says. 
'    "  So  did  I,"  Caryll  aqswers  ;  "  so  did  thçy  in  Canada,  so 
the  pàpers  said.     She  is  not,  however.     Madame  Felicia 
seventeen  years  ago  wàs  my  wife  ;  the  girl  you  rescued  on 
the  streets  two  nights  ago  my  daughter."  * 

"  Little  Black  Eyes  !    By  Jove  I  "  Terry  aspirâtes  agam. 

"  I  fancie^  you  must  hâve  suspected  something  of  this 
■ince  last  çight.  I  recognized  her  at  the  théâtre.  I  visited 
her  this  tnorning.  There  is  not  a  shadow.of  doubt.  The 
dancer,  Felicfe,  is  my  divorced  wife."  .-,_..,     , 

"  By  Jove  1  "  once  again  is  ail  Terry  can  say,  in  tas  blank 
amaze.     "  And  France  ?"  he  asKs,  after  a  pause.  <;|j 

"AU  is  at  an  end  there.  In  France'»  creed  there  i»  no 
such  thirtg  as  divorce.  I  am  a»  muoh  the  Jwsband  of  Felicia 
as  though  that  divorce  had  never  been." 

There  is  another  uncomfortable  silence.  What  is  Terry 
tq  ny  ?    Tnn»nry  mnA  fart  flr«»  Mt  no  rime  hi».    But  gilencg_ 


'■l 


Ubetter 


1      -'l 


*^^B-V' 


<■! 


'^^k^ 


'1   l< 


**IF  ANY  CALM,  A  CALM  DESPAIR» 


% 


-jp« 


3/91 


\  So  I  ^ta  going  away,"  Caryll  résumes,  steadily  ;  «  and  I 
leave  my  mother  and  France  in  your  chargé,  Dennison.  1 
go*tomorrow.     When  does^our  leave  expire  ?  " 

"  In  a  fortnight." 

"There  will  be  ample  time,  then.  My  wother  proposes 
.  returning  to  Caryllynne  ;  you  will  escort  her  thither.  For 
the  rest,  Lady  Dynely  will  be  told  the  truth,.  but  no  one  else 
—least  of  ail,  Eric  There  will  be  no  end  of  conjecture, 
and  gossip,  and  mystification,  no  doubt,  but  since  none  o£ 
us  will  be  hère  to-hear  it,  it  won't  greatly  matter." 

"But,"  Terry  hazards,  "will  j^^keep  the  secret?    They 
'say  women  never  can,  you  know ?" 

A  cold  smile  lights  Gordon  Caryll's  lips. 
'  u  "7''"^'^  ^^^^  *^^"  i^  is  to  their  own  interest.  Felicîa 
has  fooled  M.  Di  Venturinijnto  offering  to  make  her  his  wife 
The  wedding,  I  am  told,  is  to  take  place  soon.  Ife  Bas  no 
idea  that  she  has  ever  been  married— she  has  lied  to  him 
-f  "  from  first  to  last.  It  is  her  interest  ta  hold  her  tongue,  and 
now  that  her  revenge  is  satisfied  she  will." 

"  Ifs  adeuced  bad  business,  Caryll,  old  fellow,"  Terry  says, 
gloomily.     "  l'm  awfully  sorry.     Confound  the  woman  !  ie 
seeras  bom  tô  work  mischief  and  deviltry  to  every  man  sb«» 
meets."  ,       /  /        ^««««r 

"  Another  thing,  Dennison,"  Caryll  pursues,  taking*  no 
heedj  "what  I  pnncipally  wished  to  speak  to  you  abôut, 
is  my  daughter.  Ry  fair  nieans  or  foui,  she  must  be  taken 
from  her  mother  and  given  to  me.  And,  Terry,  for  tbis  I 
Ipok  to  you." 

"  To  me  ?  "  Terry  repeats,  blankly  ;  "  but  how  ?  I  can't 
go  to  Fehcia  and  demand  her,  I  can't  watch  my  chance  and 
steal  her  away.  Hang  it,  no  1  She^s  a  female  fiend,  and  I 
owe  her  no  good  turn,  but  still  she  is  the  girl's  mother,  ahd 
as  çuch  has  a  right  to  her.    I  suppose  she  's  fond  of  her  ?  " 

"She  IS  not.  Fejicia  never  was  fond  of  any  human  being 
but  herself.  She  would  send  the  girl  adrift  to-morrow,  only 
jt  adds  to  her  revenge  to  retain  her.  She  will  not  treat  her 
kindly,  of  that  I  ara  sure;  and  before  the  week  dBds  the 


lyor  childjrilUiecd  but  the  efltef  to  fly.    MymotfaerT^ 
^adly  receive  and  care  for  her.    Terry,  you  miwt  see  bn  4^. 


"■if. 


■<>T4  »     4M 


M 


-;*:    i 


4  •^•■.. 


•     t 


380  "/^  ^^y   C^Z^,   ^    CALSf  DESPAIR.» 

me.     Let  hor  know  the  truth.     You  hâve  been  of  service  to  ' 
her  and  she  will  trust  you,     Explain  everything  ;  tell  her  a 
better  home  and  kinder  relatives  than   she  has^  ever  known 
await  her.     She  will  go  with  you  of  her  own  free  will — take 
my  Word  for  that." 

"  Well,  m  try..  TU  do  my  best,"  Terry  said.  "  Hang  it, 
Caryll  I  there's  nothing  \wouldrit  do  for  you  and  France.  I 
suppose  they— your  mother  and  Miss  Forrester— are  awfully 
eut  up." 

"Naturally.  Don't  speak  of  it,  Terry.  I  know  I  can 
trust  you  ;  and  if  anything  could  help  me  nom-it  would  be 
that  knowledge.'  There  is  no  more  to  be  sailli  believe. 
Look  after  the  mother  and  France — get  the^hild  away 
from  Felicia — make  Eric  leave  Paris  for  his  wife  and  moth- 
er's  sake  if  you  can.  A  muliiplicity  of  tas^js,  dear  boy,  and 
the  last  the  hardest  by  far;  but  I  knowit  will  be  no  fault  o( 
yours  if  you  fail.  1  will  bid  you  good-by  and  ggcd  speed 
hère."  JHj^ 

They  clasped  hands  hard  in  silence,  then,''jH[bt  one 
Word  more,  parted,  and  each  went  his  own  way.  Terry  lit  a 
cigar,  and  with  his  hands  deep  in  his  pockejts  'made  his  way 
gloomily  back  to  the  Hôtel  du  Louvre.  ^ 

"  And  if  ever  the  fiend  incarnate  came  ^n  earth  to  work 

niischiefin  human  shape,"  Mr.  Denhison  inwardly  growls, 
"he  has  corne  in  the  forni  of  Felicia  the  dancer.     Devil 

take  her  !  is  there  no  end  to  the  trouble  she  is  destined  to 

make  ?  " 
Next  morning,  Lady  Dynely,  to  her  surprise  and  annoy- 

ance,   finds  herself  breakfasting  alone.     Neither  Gordon 

Caryll  nor  France  Forrester  is  to  be  seen  when  she  enters. 

She  waits  half  an  hour — still  they  fail  to  put  in  an  appearance. 

Lady  Dynely  hâtes  solitary  breakfasts,  and  rather  pettishly 

rings  the  belL 

"  11*8  f<rrj'  odd,"  she  thinks  annoyedly  ;  "  ail  day  yestérday, 

and  now  again  this  morning,  neither  Gordon  nor  France  is 

to  be  seen.     And  both  are  such  preposterously  early  risers." 
Her  owh  maid  answers  the  summons,  and  her  ladyshia 

ùupatiently  aends  her  in  quest^of^the  jruants.    JTen  minutea^ 


md  Simpson  returns. 


/\ 


^aa^B^"' 


"IF  A  AT  y  CALM,   A    CALM  DESPAIR.^ 


IH 


Gone!     my  lady  repeats  with  a  blank  stare  ^ 

n,Vi,.  .  '  "'^i    '^^^     î^°''^°"'  ^'5  '"a"'  received  his  orders  lasl 
night  to  pack  up  and  follow  hi.n  at  once  to  Englaid      Mr 

m  ^^PnS^"^^^  "'t"\î°  ^^'^  '"  ^^^^  incredulity.     France 
ill  !-Gordon  gonç  !     Now  what  does  this  mcan  ?     Her  firï 

êTh'^'K^  *;r^°  '^  î^"-^-  C^y"  ^"d  inquS  her  Second  to 

ac  ed'on  tS^'"'*  ""f  ""f  T^''y^  ""^"  «he  is  toW      â»e 
acted  on  the  second,  ordered  in  breakfast,  and  sipped  her 

An  hour  Ùter,  and  Miss  Forrester  came  down  The 
dainty  mornmg  toilet  *ras  as  fresh  and  unexceprionable  a! 
ever  tiie  pretty  rich  brown  hair  as  perfectîy  rS  fiS 
out  of  the  dark  bright  face  ail  the  color  was  s^rkkS  ouf  Sf 
ianolTir^V^'^  '"  theyàuthful  gladness  a"l  the'Cg 
lappyhght  She  went  to  Mrs.  Caryll's  room.  The  dSf 
anl^u  "?  ^''  ^^^^-^ai'-.  dressed  for^he  day,  wai  ing  in  a^ 
anguish  of  suspense.    As  France  came  in  she  opened Ver 

ZTi  L"r  "^"^°"^^  ^°^^  '^'  gi^l  ^^°t  in  to  theaTand  lafd 
her  pafe  face  on  the  motherly  bosom  with  a  grea^,  teilSs 

"My  éhild!  my  child!" 

She  held  her  to.her.  and  thqre  was  Silence.  The  eves 
of  Gordon  Caryll's  mother  were  fuU  of  pitying  tears  butThe 
eyes  of  France  were  dry  and  burning.        ^    ^         '         ^^^ 

GhL^T  'T  ^'^^y-fro™  you  who  love  him  so  dearly. 
Oh  mother,  forgive  me.     I  did  it  for  the  best."  ^ 

ment^  T.'J-'l?  ^'?°ked  whisper,  lifting  her  face  fora  mo- 

Tù       'f?  *^'"  '*■  ^*"*  o"  the  other-s  shoulder. 

»o  „i  »T  ^^  ''^^*''.'  '*  "^^^  ^°''s^  than  death,  but  I  toli  him 
to  go,"  she  says.  again,  in  that  husky  undertone. 

My  dearest,"   Mrs.   Caryll  answers,  «^-you  did  rirfit 
*ould  rather  part  with  him  forever,  rather  see  you  as  T  ie 


ri 


ê  ' 


-^£! 


^»;^^ 


.(Klt^*^ 


iii  '     '  '  il 


E:   l-'i. 


382  "/^  J^NY  CALAf^   A   CALM  DESPAIR."* 

you  nôw,  Ùtm  let  yow  be  his  wife  while  that  woman  lives.  / 
believe\as  you  believe.  No  law  of  man  can  alten  the  law  ul 
<îocî.  ^f  she  was  his  wifç  seventeen|years  ago-j-my  child, 
how  you'ishiver  !  are  you  coléj  ?— she^s  hjs^wi^still.  It  i9> 
right  and^ust  that  he  should  hâve  put  her  away — that  I  be- 
lieve ;  kn<?wing  her  to  be  alive  now,  it  is  right  and  just  also 
that  you  sftpuld  hâve  sentJiim  from  you.  But,  oh,  my  dear,.- 
niy  dear,  it  is  hard  on  yôiff-it  is  very  hard  on  hini." 

"  Don' t,"  France  says.  "  Oh,  mother,  not  yet  !  I  can'i 
bear  it.  This  day  fortnight  was  to  hâve  been  our  wèdding- 
day,  and  now — "  ° 

She  breaks  (jlown  ail  in  a  moment,  and  the  tears  come— a 
passionate  rain  of  tears.  The  mother  bolds  her  almost  in 
silence,  artd  so  on  her  bosoni  lets  her  weep  her  anguish  out. 

She  is  crying  herself,  but  quietly.  Great  self-control  has 
always  been  hers— is  hers  still.  To  part  with  her  lately- 
found  son  has  been  like  the  rending  of  soûl  and  body^— môre 
bitter  than  the  bitterness  of  death  ;  but  she  has  learned,  in 
weary  years  of  pénitence  ând  waiting,  the  great  lesson  of 
life — endurance.vJSo  she  comforts  France  now,  in  .a  tender, 
motherly  fashion,  and  Fraûce  listens,  as  she  .could  listen  to 
no  one  on  earth,*this  morning,  but  Gordon's  mother. 

"  It  is  not  for  myself,"  she  says  at.  last,  after  her  old,  im- 
petupus  fashion,  '•  it  is  for  him.  '  He  has  suflfered  so  much, 
atoned  so  bitterly  in  exile,  and  loneliness,  and  poverty,  ail 
the  best  years  of  his  life  for  that  mad  marriage  of  his  youth, 
and  now,  when  I  would  hâve  made  him  so  happy,  when  hé 
was  happy,  in  one  instant  everything  is  swept  from  him — 
home,  mother, -wife — and  he  must  go  out  into  exile  once 
more.  Oh,  mother  1  help  me  to  bear  it  !  It  breaks  mv 
hearti"  ' 

The  wild  sobs  bj-eak  forth  again.  The  mother's  heart 
echoesevery  word.  It  is  rétribution,  perhapsjustice — none  ihe 
less  it  is  very  bitter.  Théy  both  think  of  him,  Içaving  ail 
thiflgs,  and  going  back"  to  outlawry  and  wretchedness  ;  they 
think  of  her  in  her  insolent,  glowing  beauty  and  prosperity, 
ihe  world  coing  so  well  with  her,  glorying  in  her  vengeance, 
and  it  requires  ail  the  Christianity  within  them  to  refrain  froni, 

hating  h«t^  ^:n=^— - ...:;^=^ _-_J^-„„  ■_. 


>.-,. 


yx^t-é^ 


'jWjtt', 


''wfp^'-'^^^  ' ,:  ^*-  y^-^-  i-z^^"  :-  •f^^'-S'-j.wf^^ 


^  -«* 


■■^J'  A«y  CALM,  A  CALM  DESfAlS.:         3,3 

Iis^ens  to  h'er  sad  ulans  for  fSr  ?      "*  ^''^"^  ^"^«'  France 

"  We  wiJI  return  to  Fnl  !  h  T'  °^  *^"t  ^  day  before. 
gravely;^.tr  CarXnnf^^^  Caryll  says, 

enough.     Therewe'JfirStequLlÏLe^he^  fST'  ^^^" 
pray,  and  wait "  4"'CHy  logetùer,  and  hope,  and. 

^_^  Wodd  you  rather,e  we„,  .0  Ro„,e  ?  •  ■  she  Sks,  after  a 

else  on  eaj?h  ••  "'  '™"=^=''  ">"«  «■/"  anywhere 

So  it  is  agreed. 

keep  .h-e  truth  from  her^     "■  "^  ^-"-  «  tapoiibk  to 

nolhrag  of  altered  looks   or  rfAlh,  °  .""^f  '*^'°  «^ 
room,  and  vou  had  bes   ^n?f    '?"    '  """  «"'niJo  n.y  • 

and  make  an  end  of  i.  befoS  she^ës^'"  '"'>"'"'  »"• 

^'^•ïêr;?o/d^èE"°?"'~-^^^^^^^^ 

b=side;Go,^''c'"|;,?:j;^»X*l!°"^^^^^^    . 

*'Where  ia  •  *•♦•♦" 


V 


#-": 


■--'iS-, 


i!^*ff 


;i' 


384  **  ^P  -*^y  JCALM,   A   CALM  DESPAIR." 


r 


never  cared  to  lift  it ,  ugain.  He  is  whirling  along  in  a 
French  express  train — Calais- ward.  To-night  he  will  cross 
the  channel  ;  by  the  first  Cunarder  that  quits  Liverppol  he 
will  sail  for  New  York,  and  so  begins  the  second  exile  to 
which  his  fatal  wife  has  driven  him. 


m 


.>t. 


i  .*..  ' 


% 


;€;^'' 


V  r 


:  m  a 

cross 

)ol  he 

ùle  to 


■■rf 


CHAPTER  XI. 


\ 


■  V 


M.   LK  WUNCfi. 

QUIET  Street  near  ihe  Rue  de  U  Paix.    Thi.  U^^ 

than  6fteen  minutes  wilhin  ihose  glooroy  precincts  jISK 
awav  Md  Asappear  only  to  hâve  Wrs  Ske  ?hê &  puX 

Si?,,   M;  P"/»»!»™!  fa  the  leader  aid  ino«-h*  soWt 


^Sis^^rs,^«'ïifi«^i;gS^ 


%'. 


**« 


Sf 


^1»      ■« 

«<1 


Lâ-i- 


f 


1?  •:  ^ 


386 


M.   LE  PRINCE. 


by  one,  their  reports  are  QOted  down 


corne  and  go  ; 
docketed. 

With  sharp,  quick  précision  he  conducts  each  interview, 
with  imperious  command  he  gives  his  orders,  with  scant  cer- 
emony  he  disraisses  each  man  of  theni  ail.  Business  of  a 
stfll  more  private  and  délicate  nature  awaits  his  attention — 
business  purely  pergonal  to  M.  le  Prince— and  he  rather 
cuts  short  the  latest  coniers,  ând  hurries  the  levée  to  a  close.' 

A  clock  over  his  head  chimes  eleven.  With  an  impatient 
gesture  he  dismisses  his  last  client,  flings  himfeelf  back  in  his 
chair,  pushes  his  scant  black  hair,  thickly  streaked  with  gray, 
off  his  fbrehead  with  a  weary  air,  and  then  sits  for  sonie 
minutes  lost  in  deep  and  anxious  thought.  His  thick  brows 
knit,  his1ips,set  themselves  in  a  tight,  tense  Une,  then,  with 
a  second  impatient  motion,  he  seizes  a  silver  hand-bell  and 
rings  a  sharp  peal.  «, 

"1  shall  speedily  leam  whether  it  is  truth  oA  slander,"  he 
mutters.  Mpaujol  atid  Pauline  watch  her  wdl,  and  they 
belong  to  me  soûl  and  body.  I  may  trust  theiV  taie,  and  if 
she  has  played  me  falSe,  why,  then— let  her  look  Ito  herself  1  " 

Th^,belF  is  answered  almost  immediately  by  the  servant 
who  has  stood  on  guard. 

He  tows  and  awaits. 

"  Hâve  they  ail  gone  ?  " 

"Ail,  M.  le  Prince." 

'♦  Has  Paujol  come ?" 

"  Paujol  has  been  awaiting  your  excellency's  icommands, 
for  the  last  hour."  -       •. 

"  Let  him  enter." 

The  ipan  bows  again  and  disappears.  ! 

M.  le  Prince  lies  back  in  his  cha>i*^nd  pla)rs  a  deviPs  tattoo 
of  ill-repressed  impatience  on  rfe^'arm.  Then  M.  Paujol 
enters — a  very  tall  man,  in  a  gorgeous  uniform,  inoother,  in 
fact,  than  Madame  Felicia's  Yiuge  chasseur  in  his  robes  of 
State. 

**Ah!    PaujoL    You  hâve  been  hère  for  some'  time, 
Antoine  tells  me.     Hâve  you  obtained  leave  of  jibsence, 
'^en,  from  madame?" 
==*^^Hadaiiae  i»  «ot  »wiMw  ^iny  |d>sepce,  H  le  ?ri|«5R" 


■  -  "\ . 


:t^^^i&M  t^i^/tîfetfVllM 


** 


;■:?..•'■;:::.■*.<,•. 


•!  »   ■"*■'> 


ir^ 


/ 


'■♦'»  i-i 


■^ 


Ji.   LB  PRINCE. 


387 


•Madame  departed  one  hqur  ago  tô  the  baj  d'opeia  at  the 

"tn  tK  K  1  i^  «nterjection  eut  the  air  sharply  as  a  knife.- 
° W^h  ?h  ^  ''P""^  ^'•/'*  ^^"'"*^^-  With.whom ?»  ^' 
A  mnml  7°-."^  railor  Anglais-JV^.  le  Vfcomte  Dynely." 

has  leaoed  ?rnLl'""^-     ^"  u°"'"°"'  ^'-^^h-'  swift,  dange  Jus. 

nasleaped  from  the  eyes  of  the  Neapolitan^his  cruellv  thiï 

hps  set  themselvès  a  little  tighter  «i?  cruelly  thm 

"It  is  true,  thenl  ail  I  hâve  heard.     He  is  the  latest 

pLv?    *^'u^^  '^T^^  ''^'"  ^*  a»  timls,at   ail   places. 

It  is  the  talk  of  Pans,  monseigneur,  of  the  clubs  and  thi- 
salons,  of  the  streetsand  the  theatfe.  Does  youf  exceUencv 
wish  me  M  tell  you  what  they  say  ?"  ^       exceuency 

"Ail,  Paujol.     Word  for  Word  î'       ' 

Jl'^^^ï  '7'  ^'î^'''  ^-  ^®  ^""<=e,  that  but  the  English  noble 
nas  a  mfe  already,  madame  would  throw  over  your  exSlHcy 

wm  hfr  u    t'^^i'^'T^  face,  and  that  while  your  highness 
Toven"  '^^"^  *"^  dupe,>i.will  stUlremain  the^fvored 

thJîîk  ^^"<î-thin,  sinewy,  strong— that  clasps  the  arm  0/ 
the  chair  clutches  it  until  the  muscles  stand  out  IHce  cTrds 

A  fieree  Neapohtan  ogh^isses  from  his  lips-othemis^  he 
sits  and  listens  unmovMf  v  ""icrwise  ne 

"Go  on,  Paùjol,"irèVeiterateàW"Your  report  is  most 
amusmg.  my  friend.  He  is  at  madame's  consClJ,  i^he 
not?-heis  her  cavaii^r  servant,  to  ail  places  ?--h  s  «fts 
are  pn^cely  m  the.r  profusion  and  pplendor  ?_aga?n!  ,Ç  ij 

"Itis  so,  IlIustrissima—Pauline/tells  me  the  jewels  he 

&he^£:Lrr'^'''-  «V^^nightlyattendUw 
rïn?'  fi,  I»  *'^'  ^^.  '^  ^*  ^"  '^«f  i^ceptions,  each  day  they 
maSâm?«'^ô'  ^^  î"  Champs  Elykes,  he  ?pends  hoïrs U 
S^tî  °°  ^/^  mommg.  T^  none  of  the  many  gen- 
tlemen  whom  madame  has  hoftored  Vith  her  regard  hL^c 

I^ely,  ,t  ,s  ^id,  îs  dying  of  jealousyl     AÎlTkris  l^^v 


>>v 


't*" 

T" 


r 


■'■<'•' 


•fi."-'- 


1 .' 


3^8 


M.   LE  PRINCJS. 


^ 


monseigneur,  and  when  your  excellency  retorns,  wcWjden 
how  the  drama  will  end."  '(S. 

"Paris  wiU  soon  l'earn,"  monseigneur  answers  grimly. 
Ah  ominous  calm  has  settled  upon  him,  the  devil's  tattoo 
bas  quite  ceased  now,  J»s  black  eyes  glitter  diabolicall>r. 
"  Thou  hast  watchod  well,  Paujol,  lay  Iriend  ;  thou  shalt 
be  well  rewafded  Madiame  dreams  not  then  of  my  re< 
turn?"  "^ 

"She  does  not,  .your  excellency.     I  he/ird  her  tell  M. 
>  Dynely  only  tcnlay  that  youir  highness  would  uotJbetum  to 
Paris  for  another  week."  -  • 

,     A  smile  curled  the  thin  lips. 

«  "  It  is  welL  And  so  safe  in  my  ab^ience,  not  drçaming 
that  hër  chi^seur  and  femme  de  chambre  are  my  paid  and 
devoted  «pies,  she  takes  as  her  lover  this  prétty-faced  Eng- 
lish  boy,  and  ail  Paris  laughs  at  met  It  is  well,  I  say.  But 
I  am  not  the  husband  yet,  and  the  English  say  those  laugh 
best  who  laugh  last  And  so  they  assist  at  the  bal  d'ôpera 
to-nigfat  ?  Ah,  what  hour  does  madame  propose  returoinir, 
Paujol?"  «  .  *^ 

"  An  hour  after  midnight,  M.  le  Prince.  She  quits  early 
that  she  and  M.  Dynçly  may  start  early  for  Asnières,  where 
they  spend  tc^morrow."  ^ 

Again  that  threatening  flash  leaps  from  the  eyes  of  the 
prince..  ^^     , 

"What  does  madame  .wear  ?  "  he  demands. 

**  A  domino  «MT,  with  a  knot  of  yellov  ribbon  on  the  left 
shoulder."  •• 

"And,  Monsieur?" 
"  ."  Atonfieur  goes  in  fuU  eveniog  dress,  with  a  yellow  rose 
in  his  buàon-hole,  apd  lemon  gloves." 

Di  Venturini  tal^s  put  his  watch.. 
.;     "Half-past  elevep'^Mnple  rime.    A  million  thanks,  friend 
P«^jol  1    As  I  say,  your  fidelity  shall  be  well  rewarded.     Is 
your  report  made  ?    If  so,  you  may  départ." 
^     "  One  moment,  monseigneur.     My  report  is  not  finished 
^the  moi^  importait  ^art  is  yet  to  come.     [s  your  excel- 
lency aware  tlûû  madame  has  a  daughter  ?  " 
— ^%hat  i*-™-- -^-----—         -... _-/.„-— 


ï 


'-.'^ij^ 


♦    ,'• . 


J-  . 


Ù.   LE  PRINCE, 


389 


\  ' 


i.t 2^L        "^^^"^^  *  cîaughter^a  tall  English  mara'seHc' 
'^^i,feertyear«,at  présent  stopping  with  madame?-       > 

ish'whji    •°h''°vP^^''^°"  ""^'"^^  Neapolitan  fades  to  â  green<- 
i^h  wj^.     He  sjts  and  stare§.  v  ^ 

"•î^^°/^AÏ^Ï§Ii*r''  Whatisit  y«û*ayr 
The  truth  M.  I^^ince.  A  daughtW  and  a  husband 
The^ughter  iswith  her  now,  as  I  tdl  you  :  the  £band 
divorced  her  many  years  ago..  The  daughter  S^^fught 
of  M  Dvneîv  Mo^"'  "'^t.^  ^"^  -^^  ^"S^'^^  gfntleman.  a  Sd 
FnoîûK  ^     ^'  ^?f '*"':D<^"'"Son»"_PaujolpronoJnces  Ihe 

ever  since.     Before  you  retarn,  however,  madame  Drouosès   « 
sendmg  her  away.     The  husband  came  once,  and  once  only 
Themterviewwasbrief.   Hère  is  his  card,"    '   "'""^^^"fX:^ 

Caryll,    Di  \entunni  reads.  ^or  a  moment  he  is  at  a  lossT 
..>  a  moment  h.s  ojemory  refoseftto  place  him.     Thlè  S 

fâcf  to  pivJ  kT^^^  »he  woman's 

lace  to  Pehcia,  he^  détermination  to  hâve  -it  at  anv  orice      " 

.jnd  ihe  name  of  the  aftist-Qdràon  Locksley,  heZ^So':   ^> 
don  Cafyll,  aftêrwaf4s.    In  comm6n  with  the  rest  of  the 

from  hr  ^  Y  ^"^^^^^  ^^^  ^^^<''^«^'  the  prolonged  exUe     " 
.    frorn  home  and  country,  and  now-ànd  now  Paujol  stand! 

ÎS^Fe^l"  ^t  ^'^  ""n^^>^'«  face,  and  tells  hiii  gravely    • 
4hat  Felicia,  the,  woman  he  has  honored  with  the  offer  of 
his  hand,  is  that  fatal  divorced  wife 

he^elieïe/V  ™f™^°''   petnfied.,and^,n  that  moment   '; 
ne  beheves.     PaujoI,  ne^er  makes  mistakes,  never  hazards' 
rumorswuhout  proof.     She  had  lied  to  wS  "hen  from  tSe 

ïhTh^l     K   ^^  J'^l^^I  ^l^"""^  ^'^y*'^'"g  tïian  the  thought 
îoved  f  ^"""^  ^"^^^^  *'  ^^  *^^  r?'»*'»  he  has      - 

ftietrP^^nT  ^*^^^".hif  feeth,  .«_this  mjist  bç  seen  to  l     . 
«dceed.  Paujol— yo»  are  indeed  a  treasure  bëyoad  price'" 


^■ 


'    ^-. 


^  Me  (àce,  procecda.    In^detaU  hevnarrates  how  Dennison 


^^-'• 


##%;v^^''-      ■'?ft. 


'•  i  V 


390 


M.  LE  PRINCE. 


t  y 


fci»^ 


m 


,^b- 


ï-'-V 


brought  to  madame  at  raidnight  this  waif  of  the  streets,  how 
madame  at  once  received  her,  how.  Pauline  faithfully  did  her 
part,  overheard  every  word  of  the  conversation  that  passed 
between  n^ther  and  daughter,  land  faithfully  repeated  that 
conversation  to  hijp.  He  had  taken  it  down  in  writing  fioiu 
her  lips  on  the  spot,  and  would  read  it  aloud  to  monseig- 
neur now.  -■:  ** 

He  unfolded  thedociiment  as  hô^spokè,  and  slowly  read  it 
over,  that  momentous  conversation,'  in  which  "  Donny  "  had 
Clauned  Feliciaaslier  mother,  and  Felicia  had  acknowledged 
her  as  her  child— the  pledge  of  secrecy  between  theni,  and 
the  compact  by  which  madame  was  to  pass  her  off  as  a  dis- 
tant relative.  In  his  cold,  steady,  monotonous  voice,  Paujol 
read  it,  then  folded,  and  handed  it  respectfuUy  to  his  superior 
officer  and  master.  Di  Venturini,  his  yellow  face  still  sickly, 
greemsh  white,  waited  for  more.  ^ 

"  The  girl— she  is  still  there  ?"  he  asked. 
"  She  is  still  there,  M.  le  Prince.     She  is  to  be  sent  away 
m  two  days.     She  and  madame  hâve  had  a  quarrel." 

"Ah  !  a  quarrel  1     \Vhat  about ?"  ,    • 

•  "About  M'sieu  Dennison.    M.  Dennison  came  vestèfday, 
came  the  day  before,  and  both  times  asked  to  see  the  young 
lady  he  had  picked  up  on  the  streets.     Madame  put  him  off 
with  a  falsehood.     Mam'selle  was  ailing  and  had  declined  to 
see  him.     This  Paulme  repeated  to  mam'selle,  who,  it  Would 
appear,  is  most  anxious  to  meet  again  with  the  gentleman 
who  rescued  her.    Mam'selle  flewinto  a  violent  passion, 
sought  out  madame  and  taxed  her  with  duplicity.     Madame 
is  not  accustomed  to  being  arraigned  for  her  actions,  and 
possesses,  as  monseigneur  doubtless  is  aware,  a  fine,  high  tem- 
per  of  her  pwn.    Before  five  minutes  madame  was  boxing 
mam'selle's  ears.    Mam'selle  became  perfectly  bcside  her- 
self  with  fury,  and  tried  to  rush  out  of  the  bouse,  but  was 
captured  and  brought  back  by  Pauline,  who  was,  as  usual, 
on  the  w*tch.    Madame  then  infotmed  Pauline  that  mam'- 
selle was  mad,  quite  mad,  that  her  madness  consisted  in 
&"^^^"^.  ^^^  her  mother,  that  she  had  run  away  from  her 
rticiids^underthaT;dehision,  and  Itiàrnow' she  was  under  tfte  ^ 
necessity  of  locki;ig  her  up,  for  a  day  or  two,  ufitil  she  côuld 


/ 


1 


,  *  ^1*      *  ' 


St8iWèaii|ii{'-<it-T'iPtn'f^irii»i 


'^^''-^i'^^^'i^^^^  /  44 


i>^' 


-C^  Î*RINCE. 


f 


391 


«end  fer  safeïy  back/to/those  friends.  The  oassion  «# 
mam'selle  was  frightfu/  t/  behold,  so  Pauline  savrintchi 
-  was  brought  back  anà  Wely  locked  up"andsrcontftues 
locked  up  at  this  pre^nt  momeiu.  She-  refuL  to  sS  or 
eat  and  hes  hke  a  stjne.  Madame  bas  made^niSSems 
to  bave  her  removed  the  day  after  to-morrow_X?e  Pai 
Une  bas  not  afe  yefr  discovered."iB^ 

.^•1^^T  K?^""^'-    .^'  VènturinfK  face  stiH  green  bis  h-os 
stil^set  h.s  eyes  still  gleaming,  iooks  up.         ^      '     '  ''^"' 

"  rarvrl!zirH^P°T'"'^î^''''  ^^*^^^"  ™^^^™«  and  M.  Gordon 
<>aiyllw^id  Pauhne  also  overhear  that  ?  "  ^^uruon 

"  Paohne  overheard  every  word,  monseigneur  and  a<. 
before,  repeated  it  to  me.  As  befor^,  I  took  ft  down^n  wrft 
M  Kinc:  ?>''  ^"'  '"^^^  "  ""''''     Shall  I  readTt  '"Z^ 

P^œc/^eS^Seà^S^  iJ^^^ 

r,^TthT'^\^-  "'^"' .  ^  husband-a  daughe  la  lover 
fJ^-^  thejaughingstock  of  Paris  !     His  face  for  an  iSnt 

S!>Td^'XTc;/a7oï^c^^^^^^  '-^  done%ord'j^^ 

doT^no^^rjl"'^  *"'L*5^^1-  DiVenturinisitsalone.  He 
S  Hk  tf '^''^^^^  •'^°"^*  ^"^^  truthof  au  this  he  has 
heard.     H  s  twro  emis8anes_aLeJddity  jtself-^their  loy.lty 


he  ha8  asked  to  marry  him.    Tcnight  L  but  made  ^nïS 


iM 


'Âj 


"^s 


:f.'V      -»i 


„^iX  M  >.    t/!  ' 


îpl 


'^ê^i 


*^ 


•V4' 


"^!«C^t"S>  ^  !^'Wir}i^f; 


*'  ' 


^^^>| 


1 , 


392 


il/:   Z^  PR/NCB, 


His  face  looks  leadenln  .h°  li^ni^Kr'i;''ïï  *  *  '"'?""'>• 

through  hb  settee'h    «  an?  aîl  pl^i^^?  '  "   ""^  '=?=«» 
night  Ht  the  bal  d'oôet^  .„  ^„  '«"gbing  at  me.    To- 

Prince  safelyabse«fo?*aS^r™»'  "  Asn  ères,  and  M.  le 
the  plot  of  her  o»n  plays."  ^"^     ''"'*  '  «  «  "ke 

reJ^;forts^ri™r«ThT£TIl'"'?"''r  ""  "»*« 


=i^ 


,--    > 


«SUfT,. v- 


'  '^"•¥'^' 


CHANTER 


'  *J 


AT  THK  BAL  V'ckxttM. 

^Ù^\  ^^J    I  wish  shfe  were  dead  !    Oh.  whv 

given  her  1  fe  would  ac«.rfîk-»,    i  ? .       *?  *"°   ^^ 

would   ring- tCghT^^^^'q^^^ 

KuS^    ^  gio^^  pfsne  hère,  spent.  whke,  exSed" 
her  dusk  cyes^gleaming  we^  in  her  pallid  diUdTfe^ 


i-v.Vj 


tï.<'»fe-  I.- 


a  ï'"" 


394 


AT"  TITE  BAL  IXOP^A. 


' .  \ 


her  elfish  black  hair  ail  tossed  and  dishevelled  over  hei 
shoulders. 

uZ}^  >*' were  hère,"  she  thihks  with  a  great  sobbing  ^ 
"ire  would  save  me.  Oh,  if  I  had  only  stayed  with  him 
tMt  night,  and  never  corne  hère  I  He  was  good,  he  was 
kJhd  j  1  would  hâve  been  happy  with  him." 

The  face  of  *Terry  Dennison  rises  before  her~the  honest 
eyes,  the  frank  sraile,  the  man's  strength  and  woman's  gentle- 
ness,  and  her  heart  cries  out  for  him  now  in  her  trouble,  as 
though  he  had  been  the  friend  of  her  whole  life. 

'1  He  asked  for  me,"  she  thinks,  with  another  long  shud- 
denng  sob.  "  Twice  he  asked  for  me,  and  each  time  she 
told  him  a  hë— told  hmi  I  was  sick  and  did  pot  want  to  see 
him.  And  she  struck  me  in  the  face.  Oh,  I  hâte  her  !  I 
haie  her  !  " 

Herfolded  arms  rest  on  thebed— her  face  drops  on  them 
and  so  poor  ill-used,  ill-tempered,*passionate  Donny  lies 
shll.  She  falls  into  a  sort  of  lethargy  that  is  not  sleep,  but 
the  natural  resuU  of  so  much  fie#ce  excitement,  and  in  that 
half-doze  dreams— dreams  Terry  Uennison  is  coming  to  her 
rescue  once  more,  the  kindly  smile  she  remembers  so  well, 
and  trusts  so  entirely,  on  his  face— that  his  foot  is  ascend- 
mç  the  stairs,  that  he  is  turning  the  key  in  the  door,  that  he 
is  m  the  room.  Then  at  light  flashes  through  the  darkness, 
and  she  look^up  with  dazed  dreaming  eyes  to  see  a  man  in 
the  room,  shading  a  light  and  looking  at  her— a  man  who  is 
notx&ny  Dennison. 

"  Hush-h-h  I"  ^his  man  says,  putting  his  finger  on  his  lip 
and  noiselessly  closing  the  door.  "  Not  a  word,  not  a  sound 
mademoiselle  1  I  am  a  friend.  I  hâve  come  to  save  you 
But  ail  dépends  on  your  being  perfectly  still." 

She  does  oot  rise.  She  lies  and  looks  at  him,  her  wide- 
open,  black  eyes  full  of  silent  wonder  ami  suspicion 

"  Who  are  yôu  ?  "  she  asks. 

He  is  a  little  yellow  man,  in  a  richly.furred  coat,  and 
mth  an  air  of  distinction,  but  Mam'scUe  Dorniy  does  not 
Iike  his  look. 

"  J  ""  a  fi^eo<>»  j8  I  told  you.    I  haye  been  aent^tn  tave 


%v 


Fî^'.» 


■Je  *r 


'  ■      iflaMMirifi  Vi'  JMMMBMy'-  j- i|i|iiiMiiM|ill|f''i  t    j 


"^-^  'fi-ss^iScd:^^ 


mM^^w^^ 


M 


^r  TJ/£  BAL  D'OPERA. 


395 


ïon'hpî^M  ^^^"  '^?î  by  .'"'"-the  gentleman  who  brought 
you  hère— Monsieur  Dennison."  ^ 

She  springs  to  her  feet  now,  the  soiind  of  that  naine  elec- 
tnfymg  her. 

"  Ta^e  me  to  him,"  she  cries,  breathlessly.    "  Oh,  sir  1  take 

from  this  dreadful  house,  from  that  dreadful  woman  lo  him  !  " 
«n-  il  T  f  >'^  ^^ain  ;  "  softly,  mademoiselle-some 

one  may  hear     I  hâve  corne  to  take  you  to  him  presently, 

f.  V^st-^niadame  is  your  mother,  is  she  not?  " 
-wh^^  ?u  y°V^sk;that?"  she  impati^ntly  demands; 
what  has  that  todow.th  it  ?  Oh  1  kt  megoawayat  once." 
It  has  everythmg  todowithit,  mam'selle.  Monsieur 
Denmson  told  me  to  ascertain.  He  would  hâve  come  him- 
seit,  but  you  know  hiadame  distrusts  him  and  will  not  let  him 
see  you,  lest  you  should  tell  him  the  truth." 

"  \  •'"ow  '  I  knowi  "  she  impatiently  interrupts.  «  She 
I.ed  to  him  !  She  told  him  I  was  ill,  when  he  asked  for  me! 
and  I  was  dying  to  see  him.  She  slapped  my  face,  and 
locked  me  up  hère  and  I  hâte  her  !  "  HeVeyes  flashed  fire. 
her  hands  clenched.  "  What  is  it  you  want  to  know  ?  "  shê 
cned  excitedly.  "l'il  tell  you  inything  -  everytWso 
that  you  take  me  from  hère,  to  hi^."        ^  ^     ^ 

"Tell  me  your  story—who  you  are.     She  is  your  mother 

It.XLl^ùP'-  '"  '-  ^-  ^'•°  '-  y-' 

nison  take  me  to  riim.  She  is  my  mother-oh,  yes  !  and  I 
was  born  m  Quekc,  more  than  sixteen  years  ago.  My 
father  would  not  ]|ve  with  her,  I  don't  knoi  why,  and  there 
was  a  divorce  So  Joan  told  mei  Jean  was  th^re  when  ï 
was  born,  and  my  mother  left  me  with  her  and  went  awav. 

I  wUh  ?n^  T  J?^  '  u"?^  '^^  •*  *^«^^'  ^"^^  5°  I  cai"^^  hère. 
S^rc^^  ^^^^]'*''*~T''^'"  "*"'«  '3  Rosamond.  She  calted 
was  Gordon  Caryll.     I  don't  know  whetherhe  is  living  or 


*. 


told  you,  I  want  you  to  take  me  away." 


,tife;p'lr«^L,pj5^»4^ip 


"^s" 


390 


-rfr  7!aff  ^,<z  Jy  OPERA, 


intXï  fecthS  ï?tUt^^  '^^^  n^lr  '>-^-     One  look 
trust  my  wor4  when  I  say  ^  ^'  ^"^  *^*'  speedily^you  may 

mpre.  '  ™°  ^«  **  a«>«^  m  her  prison  once 

on^^eef  o?S^^^^^^^^^  ^he  va.t  building  was 

The  orchestra,  playinu  the  sweS  «,?        °^^,°''^'T^°'^e'-ing- 

'  of  the  music  arofe  the^riU i.f^H^'^^l  '^^.   "^"^   «trains 
ceaseJess  eav  voici-*^  Tc^T   •   '^^S'^^e'".  t^ie  sliriJl  clatter  of 

as  the  ^him  took  C  Sed^  tTA  "*^'^^offor  on. 
noisily  to  and  fro.     A  ê^eo„,  .?•  .    'H^^^^'^s^'x  and 

Parisgaslitlife-aglimpfrifSfT^  ^r^  °"«  PJ'^e  of 
intoxicating,  wicked      ^  ^^  '^'■^^'^"  Nights-briliiant, 

sIoX"'h2;n;Su"^^^^^^  -'°-  and  n^oving 

which, despite  thé  warnuh'  he  s^l^tf  ^^^ogg.d  great-coa? 
'ngall  butthe  glitterT  wo  re  ëss  btîr''  ^''  '"^'^  ^°"<^^^'- 
way  to  the  centre  of  the  aMenfhl?!  ^  f^^*'-  "^  "»ade  his 
against  a  statue  of  the^oTo?  wlTheï^^^^^^^^^^  "'«"«^"^'^^ 
«agoria  as  it  ffitted  before  Wm  s.  Jh  "l^'^^J  P'^^"^*'- 
slightly  and  drew  in  his  bZtthlhh  «  ^ï*'**^"  ^ .  ''*  «tarted 
What  he  looked  for  hcLw  *  "^"^^  ^'^'^""^  »ound. 

<»  her  left  shoulS   Thé^Sll^ÏL^"^^*^  ^^"^  ^bbon 
closely,  vas  m  seX«„»  f     .  ^^"^''  '^^o  clasped  Lr  so 

--ifbXhoTpitk^^^^^^ 

«nl4  Jaughter  of  the  lady  reachS  h  J™.  .     u'^  t?°^*7     ^he 

*  bacchante,  laughter  iJX^l'^?  ^^..^^^^fr^ 


It,      V 


> 


'•-f- 


y.iM'i 


.  !?■■ 


^  AT  tus  BAL  COOPERA.  . 

where  but  few  people  wS^  f „H  "  k    P'*"  P'aots,cast  sh^e, 

We  uiust  dance  the  Y^xo\^h^V\ll^J  {  ^  "  ^.""^^  ^y  «tep. 
-hbme.  Eric,  go  for  S^Tte  if  «,1?'^^  'T^^^^  ^"^  ^f'^" 
pire."  **         •   ^  "^^  '^  ^^O"»  would  not  see  me  ex- 

pering  something  ha^  cau^d  mT"'*?"  Tl  ^°  obey.  whiS 

«ver  slight,  eut  &%^  t££  'Î*^"  ""ghbors,  how- 

««raigh.  fron,  ttelSouS     Asï  h^  "  r""*""*"'  '"'«' 
ga.her«l.    There  ist^îi  hY-ÏJJSlï^f""'.""*' 


W 


!&» 
=* 


■£tLlÊtÊàiÛK^^'  ■*  »n.k_j.  ■•.'■•»; v^  ^  '. 


398 


Wr  r/TE  ^^Z  E^  OPERA. 


once  more!''''''^  ''^'^'^  "^^"^  ^'  ^^  ^P^^^^"«  ^'^  »»'«  ^ack 

««"^°™K   ^"'"  ^"^'^  ^3TîeIy  said,  with  perfect  coolness  • 
«as  my  best  coat  is  spoil«d,  I  don't  mind  spoilingTt  a  Sîe 
more.     Get  up  and  m  show  you  how  to  walk  Arouïh  a 
ba  -room  mthout  running  against  your  neighbors  "         ^ 
"  Mon  Dieu,  Enc  !"  cried  the  voice  of  relicia.,who  had 

"I  hâve  not  the  honor  of  monsieur-s  acquaintance  at 
présent;  but  ail  the  same  it  affords  me  pSe  to îeach 

rrv^o^f  r"'^^  !?'  "'^^^"'e  had  clutched  his  arm  with  a 
flZne  DrVenT'^'T?,""'^"'  Witt,  eyes  litemlly  flash^g 
off  hS  ^  yent"nni  had  sprung  to  his  feét  like  a  tiger.  tom 
off  his  mask,  and  confronted  them.  * 

'•Yes,  madame— itisl.  You  recognize  me  I  see  TAX 
Tu  uT  ^*^°  ^  ^•"-  You  know  mef if  he  dues  not  We 
shall  be  better  acquainted  before  long  I  hâve  the  hono,!^ 
bave  I  not  of  speaking  to  Lord  Dynely?"  ' 

He.  hissed  out  his  wofds  in  English  that  the  crowd  miaht 

"A  fnend  of  mine  shall   wait  uppn  you,  mv  lord    to- 

«  YorhaTT^'",   "?•  ""^"^r^^  ^^^  i"  -  -S  wSp  r 

You   hâve   heard  of  me— I  am  the  Prince  Di  Venturini 

Foryou.  madame,"  with  a  low  bow,  «  I  shall  see  you  latër" 

the^h^nf  «'7°"î^  Tj"  ^'  *"">^<ï'  ^^^-  hirwirthrorgh 

he  hl^  coSie    h,"^"'";^  *^"  ^^^  '"^^'î"^^     F°r  this  purpofe 
ne  had  corne— his  end  was  acçomplished.  h    F    « 

.ii^trc^ea^nu^Vf^^^^^^ 

D>melylooked.at  each  l^r  Wa'nkfy  L  ^«^^«0?"  Th"' 
madame  broke  into  one  of  her  shrill  Lghs.  '" 

one  of  our  vaudevilles  at  the  Varieties,  where  madame 
amuses  herself  in  monsieur's  absence,  and^^Sr^Trio^s 
and  jealous,  unexpectedly  appears.    What  a  seine  CïiU 


^'    . 


1*** -n.       A-WûfV 


'  ! 

ff  '      • 


-f    'sl^ 


}l% 


■ll  ■' 


AT  T/tS  S  AL  ir  OPERA.  . 

mon  cher— shall  we  dance  it,  or—»  "^ 

««3u'^V^"''^  it,  of  course,"  Lord  Dynely  answers 
"a  waltzwith  you  ,s  too  rare  a  treat  to  h^A\l\l ^y^^nu» 

onerL  rlnA       î  .    /"f  "  "  ^"^^  ^"<^  ^e  wraps  her  in  her 
opéra  clpak^  and  leads  her  to  her  carnaa,.      qk^  i         c 

And  Asnières,  mon  enfant,"  she  says,  "do  we  an  tn. 

morrow  down  the  Seine  as  agreéd,  or  do  H-''  ^°  '^ 

for  luth^i    1      ^n/'^e'-ed.  .his  blue  eyes  flashing;  "„ot 

^e^it^:^^,-  Chnstendo^wonlcflthrc;:: 

^e  stoops  and  kisses  the  jewelled,  ungloved  hand  she  ex 

k'not  s?  well'''T"h''^'r^'^»  ^^^^^  ^-'^'  d:lt1augrh" 
knows  so  well      Then  the  carriage  roUs  away      Circe  ha, 

gone.  and  her  victim  s^^ds  alonel  the  cool  Februa^^  ni^hï 


-:m 


' 

\ 

\ 

■'*v 

"^ 

- 

y 

■-^ 

■ 

- 

! 
1. 

j 

1 

'] 

.' 

'■". 

« 


hA^Hi^J^        ^  ifu.-,#^îtS     >   ^ 


»,■■■.'■■ 


CHAPtER  XIH. 

le  Prince  is  a  min  ?      •  ^  ^^'^  '^^^  ^««^  insulted  and  M 

man  ;  lightina  his  d^:.r  rSfi        i^®  ^îî*^^^  ^"^  ^^  J^'lled  his 

He  IsaWZr^^^J^^^'-r"^  ^'^^^ 
smce  the  becinniha  of  hîô  «•  .  5  •  .  ^°^  ^an  once. 
Lord  Dynïf  SotiX?     A  '''î  T''^  "^A  ^'  ^'^^^^  ^S 

-rning  after,  ri:'kTtrrhe  ^^^^  ^^^ 

ph7S;T'oS^  r  r  ^^^^^  ° '^e"?  «e^  ^^"^"-• 

rno^'S^'i^oLd'^^^^J^^  the  fartheït  possible  re- 
and  stiU  a  nfan  novice  £  Sk^.  t^l/^ably^pleasant, 
good  grâce,  if  his  Snt?enœ  lir?otaV' ToT^  1^  "'? 
one  must  fear  what  cornes  afte^^dea*  Of  Th  J^ÏÏ'^'^'''' 
men  of  h  s  stamo  whollv  ai^Z  :  u  ^  **^'  ^^^^  ^^^t 
ure.  Lord  Dynely  neve/  fl^,  K?  '°.?^  P"""^"'*  °^  P^^as- 
all  its  dissipaSs  evin  «f^^^^'  ^^îf  *"'  «^ken  witi, 
Paris,  life  was  a  goS  la   o?»^î!î  ^"^  **"8'^*^^*'  ^ere  in,  ^ 


ï  /s 


V'\. 


.I» 


'7"»UÏ3i  .     ,,  ,.-,_  , ,     .      ,,,-,    -^., 


•(f 


>' 


-^^T-^iP   775»  ^^ZZ. 


•  .,        ♦  ;  40I 

his  cigar  'now.  atd  st?oll"d   slowTvtn'"^''" .'^  ''^^'  ''^  "'- 
-    *^hae,  shining  stars.     Yes  }ife  w,^  ^  k  "'^"^'"^   ""^'-''-   'he 
a1l  things.     A  pretty  face  w  h  t       m  ^""'^  >  ^  ^^il  ti^ed  ol 

raftleof  thed^fclï  Jt°hT"'  °^^^'  °f  torses,  the 
Sards.  thé  whirl  of  Ae  ball-rooï^T'Pr'"'  ^^  «»'"««  of  the 
3^,all  things  in  this  wearf^^'eTowSr  &  "' f^ 
skmned,  tôpaz-eyed  actresses  oanTfLr  r  *  ^"'^^  **^'^'»- 
fewr  thousand  pounds  srïônoon  »k  •  *  ^^"^  ^^^^^'  ^«r  a 
"becks  and  nods.  and'^w/eatÏÏ  sS '".P'^'T^'  ^""'^^^^ 

many  thousand  years  ago  is  wearill  t^h?  5  k°"u°°  '""«    «> 
kunes^^qrée  of  tcnJav     AnH  on  ^  f^   ^^'^  ^^  ^'^  sons-the 

above  thëm,  «usic  arôSrïZm  »    ",V*'r"'°*''  «""«^ine 

lyupon  him.     S  mornW  i?.f°"'  ^es  srnUing  linguid- 
there  would  be  hat  S  w^ooSrid"  ^i^.©-^'.  cold  dLn, 

io  haste  out  of  X^^i^rZ^A'  ?^f*Po»«an  prÎTice  flyîng 
TWrd,andamanlir8ffon?hTKr^°^  Napoléon  thi  . 
dead  face  upturaedWe  skv     A.  in  r'^-"? '°^  ^*^*'  ^is 
him  he  saw  it  alL*  And  then  th^rV      ,!?''lî*  P'^'"^«  ^^^^     , 
Italy  a  few  week.later  and  V-   '  *  ''^'''*''"8  ^"^ 

lifeon  the  NeapoS^n  ^rfnce  For fh'^^  ''^"'^  ^""^  ^^ 
b"P,  in  the  creed  of  the  m««  ,  .*^°^îe  ^ead  man-well,  for 
-annihiJatio^T  """*  ^"""^^  *^«  ^^^t  of  aU  things 

tbiScing'^if  S^r  IT  t:s^kro''Sf  ^"^  "^'^  ^--«^^ 

wômankind.  and  hemustfindaf^eSd.  %r""'  ^^  '^^ 
-yes,  Boville  would  do^he  wo„  S  c  k-  '"f^''^^  ^^"'e 
morrow,  and  refer  EH  v^î!    ^^^^    ^^  •"""  ^^^^^t  thingto. 

Prdinar^  cJc«4unSs.  w"  n'  ' -"^"^  ^  ufd^ 

Wbe^.e|^^4^^^^ 


■  v> 


"5, 


'.■■H'fK'r 


403 


/   ^ 


AJTTEJf   THE  BALL. 


and  for  the  samç  cause— Dynely's  neglect  of  his  wife  II 
had  occurred  thi:ee  da»  afte?  the  sudden  and  son^eXt  sur 
pnsmg  departure  of  Gorçlon  Caryll.  Eric  stili  held  foj^ 
body  and  soûl  by  Felicia.  Çrystal  still  drooping,  v^th  C 
pathetic  heart-broken  face.  By  command  of  Lady  Dynetl^ 
«èr^,  Ferry  had  taken  Crystal  for  a  drjve  in  the  Boîs  and 
iadlfn?  *°^'"'»:  '"..^he  yellow  afternoon  sunshSv'thëy 
aancer.     Lying  back  m  her  silks  and  sables  and  seal  skins 

c:v2rTorrn^";''"L'^ï"^^^ 

cavalier,  I.ord  Dynely,  beside  her,  so  Lord  Dynelv's  wife 

hac  corne  uponthem  fuH,     For  a  s;cond.  four  pS  of  eyes 

Tn!  "t  r"  ^^'^".Kh'  *=*rriage  of  the  danseuse  flashed  past, 

bœel  "''1;  laugh  came  back  to  them  on  S 

rnl?^°"  Dieu!  E^a  pleas^nt  rencontre  for  you  ? "  she 

V  ma'i- w'itS^'Mr  ^  '''""^'^\  ^^J*^^  ^""^^^°"-     "  ^Vhat  is  the 

""^eVot^f^e"?,^^^^^^^^^       "^  «^^'^  ™^  ^  '^^  ^^->"^^'^ 

brS tnd  tc/t:;^^!^  ^  '  "^^^  ^  ''^^^^  « 

befo^\3f7  '  ^^^^-l"^  ^°™.^'"  ^'^^  h*^  s°bbed,  as  once 

before,  and  Terry,  m  silence  with  flasbing  eyes  and  lowerine 

-  brows  and  compressed  lips,  iiad  obeyed.  ^     'o^enng 

the  Dvnd  Jr  r  *"■  f!"*  *^r  J"^'  *  "  ^^^"^  "  '»  ^»»e  salon  of 
me  Uynelys.     Crystal,  sick   heart  and 

herroom;  Eric,  waiting  for  dinner,  was 
»"^  Paper,  when  Deiii&on  strode  in  and. 
end?^^^'"  ^^  P*"»onately  demande 

^  Lord  Dynely  lo(ied  up,  the  conscious  blood  reddening 

his  transparent,  girl-like  face.  'cuuemng 

"Ho«r  rs  what  to  end?    May  I  request  you  to  take  à 

^^t  less  aggreâ^ive  tone  in  addressing  me,  Mr.  Denni- 

ir  negï^t— your  shameful  neglect' of  your  wife.    It  is 
/"  "^fF^^^^-^y^^  are  kiUing  her  by  inches,  before 

ft»5hJided.&eiB^the  Mondeface  of  VisCoant  Byn^^ 


.  ./....  -V,  ;ia**^^ ■>  ,', ^i^.^r.'i^îkf^tar- 


Vj?. 


.jt  \   * 


l^.    ■ 


■>J 


AFTER   TpE  SALI.  ^ 


403 


Me  laid- 


JowJ  h-"^  ^hitenéss  c,f  deadly  anger  took  its  place. 

this?^'^^     '"'^""■*''^  '"y  ^''^  *^*^  '^"t  y°".h«re  to  tell  n,e 
.    "Your   wife    knows  nothing  of  mv  coniina     \\^^t   «^ 

fs  t^Sn^^'j^'l^"'?"^  breakingyour  wife's  heart    A  1  pi^ 

I»„;I  r    '*^'^  '^^  dancer!     You  spend  yourtlme  vou 

lavish  yourgifts  on  that  painted  Tezebel  whilp  fwl?^- 
day  by  day  before  y6ur  eyes.  And  S  se^S^e^ks  sin« 
you  HTarried  her  !"  ^  »ev«rweeJcs  sinee 

n  ight  say  ^what  .you  would.     That  promise  I  meanTke^en 
It  is   the  farthest   possible  from  mv  wish--the  tLlhf'^; 

'  '"'^T^^.tY^'     B",Eric,IsJy:^„ttmttd/' 

Miî,r    I   5       °^^  charming  woman  in  Paris,  I  présume 
May  I  ask  Awi;  you  propose  to  end  it  ?  "  Présume. 

a«  .  f  •   ^^^''^'',^''^'  Eric,  don't  sneer  !     I  speak  to  vou 
as  a  fnend.  a?^  brother.     You  cannot  be  quite  heartfess 
--you   cannot  ^Mve  quite  outlived  your  lovt  for  cS 
Don  t  you  see  you  are  Jcilling  her-^oor,  little  souI  TonV 
you  see  she  wotships  the^'ground   vou  walk  on    tïi  i      . 
thmg  your  hand  hâsWhedlshe  w'ould  dL  for  you   Ê^ï 
and  you-yoi.  neglect  h^  more  shamefully  thaï  ever  bride' 
was  neglecfed  before  ;  yéi  insuit  her  by  yo/r  devotS^^  to  3it 
to  dt '^'  "'^T'''    ^^  ^\  *^^  ««^"  ^^'^^fter  you  hLd  piled 


y^=»< 


_,      .-<i. 


3» 


\ 


.4fcTlK 


j^r^rTirapTërToveFT^"En^ 
■neer  stUl  on  lips  and  eyes.     «  Let  us  understacd  ^  oS^ 


f"^^iM 


,n  *■' 


7W* 


404 


^Fr£^  THE  BAU.. 


k  * 


r 


A-'^ 


<* 


thèse  rooms  at  once,  Td  en  er  th^^  ^'""^  ^"^"g'^  ^°  q"'t 

.  with  reason  objeçt  to  you  her    Hr.H  t   ^^  «asily,  I  ,„ighî 

this  once.     I  sball  order  rav  wife  to  ri?!;  *at  pass- 

longer,  and   I   think  she  wHl  ï    m  ^^^'""^  y®"»"  ^'^its  no 
After  to-day,  Mr   DennLn  ^^\  ''^"^"'^   »«  *sobey. 

quaintanceSatanenr      '  ^''"  '''"  «nderstand  our  ac- 

tu>n,  if-that  were  poSbre,  to  Fdi^'  Thev^^^  ^^"°- 
than  once  since,  and  Dvnelv  hfJ^  7*u-  ,^  ^^  "'^t  "Ofe 
betweenthosetwTwKd^i^"  '"''"f^^^-  «^  «"atteS 
^  night  Verily.  a  woman  i,  »?[2^  "^  *'  '''■°^''^'^'  ^tood  to. 
masculine  fw|Ad's^pTo^^^:^^^^^^^^ 

through  hiraSs  he  lookSl/ï!  ^^^  u'^*"^^  ^^«"«^se  shot 
brief  week™  ^^^^  **  ''^"'  ^°  ^^^^^nged  in  those  few 

wJt^'i:^L\T^  ™,Sfn?i?^"  '■^  r»'«>  '""C'y"»' 
•ble  padietic  /4ÎS     sSe  siï^^  "'*  '''?  "^  »""«"- 


a^' 


'^':k4':S',^i£Mi  - 


'4ct^ 


Tr 


vv. 


1^  1 


-T 


^/•T»*  TWK  JfALL. 


and  must  get  offit  once  "  engagement  this  morning, 

rjentSrtfhtrSœ^^  changed.  a  note 

"an^^i,rLtr,ot^:^ef;r'^^^ 

as  (his  f  !•    >*    .  ^  "  ^"^^  ™  *  «an  m  such  a  hurry 

Ca^i^^aîS"^^^^^^-!  De  Concressault, 
such  a  KuiTv  t<i  be  X  *îi     V  -^"^  ^  ^^""^  s«"t  for  you  in 

çigan'  " TfhLIgîîîf .S'^^^^^        -^  but  not  the 
is  at  the  bottom  ofit?^  ^  ^  **"•'•    O^  course  Felicia 

i'^}^^iTj\ZJS^^^^^^  the  botto.  of  al. 

thing  is  strictly  xi«>  nva^S  wnï/^  i    *    i   '  "^  ^'""''^  ^^«ry. 

"  Oertainly  not  "  BtoTîni  *^°  ÎP  ^*'  ''  «et  wind." 

aboutit,  D/nel,'  I^oûïh.'iïT^S  «^^^'y-    "Tell  „, 
for  another  S"  ^^  ^-  *^  ^""*^^  ^«  «afely  away 

laugh°  "He"^um2^^t^"  ^^."^'^  ^'^'  -"h  a  slight 

.wo^^jan.  thH^jdSrtrEu^ur'"^^^^  ^^^  «-2; 

"  And  you?-  SJv'ille^^  ^'^^^  ManiUaiu"  ^ 


■î'r'        '  ^    ■^  • 


I  r^v 


406 


APTER  THE  SALL. 

% 
"But— ^ood  Heaven  !  Dynely,  yôu  hâve  no  chance  a( 
ttll  then,  if  the  prince  means  mischief  1    And  he  mostly  does, 
I  can  tell  you,  when  he  fights.     Don't  you  know  he  has 
killed  thi-ee  mén  already  ?" 

Lord  Dynely  shrugged  his  shoulders. 
"I  can'tshow  the  white  feaiheron  that  accoùnt.     l've  goi 
into  this  scrape,  and  I  must  take  the  conséquences,     l've 
referred  De  Concressault  to  you.     You'll  act  for  me,  old 
fellow,  I  know  ?  " 

"I  shall  be  helping  to  murder  you,"  Boville  answered, 

with  a  groan.     **Is  there  no  way,  Dynely,  by  which " 

"  There  is  no  way  by  which  this  matter  can  be  settled, 
except  by  a  meeting,"  Dyuely  answered,  irapatienily.  Di  Ven- 
turini  came  to  the  bail  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  insuit 
me.  He  did  it,  and  I  knocked  hini  down  twicè.  You 
must  perceive  there  can  be  but  one  ending  to  such  a  thine 
as  that.»  ^ 

"  Devil  take  Felicia  !  "  growled  his  friend.  "  I  wish  you 
had  never  seen  the  sorceress.  She  is  fatal  to  ail  men.  She 
reniiiids  one  of  those  fabled  Whafs-their-names,  liiermaids 
— sirans— Lurline — who  lure  poor  devils  with  their  smiles 
and  4ongs,  and  then  eat  them  up^^d  cru nch  their  bones. 
It's  i  deuce  of  an  afifair,  and  I  never  served  a  friend  so 
unwiUingly  before  in  niy  life.  By  the  way,  was  the  pnnce 
masked?     How  did  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  He  tore  oflF  his  mask  in  a  fine  frenzy  after  the  second 
knock  down.  /  never  saw  him  before  in  my  life.  And 
now  I  corne  to  think  of  it,  he  didn't  see  me  at  ail.  I  kept 
my  mask  on  through  the  whole  fracas— never  thought  of  it 
once.  By  Jove  !  "  Eric  cried,  laughing,  "  the  idea  of  going 
out  with  a  man  he  never  saw  !  " 

"Ifs  no  laughing  matter,  let  me  tell  you,"  Boville  growled 
again;  "it's  an  infernal  business,  and  I  wish  you  had 
chosen  any  one  else  to  act  for  you  in  the  matter.     How- 

ever,  if  you  insist  that  it  is  inévitable-' " 

"  It  is  most  decidedly  and  emphatically  inévitable  ;  so  be 
oflf  and  arrange  for  to-morrow  moming,  there's  a  good  fellow. 
l've  an  engagement  that  I  would  not  b^  late  for  for  worlds." 
■ "Andpistolggrswordt l'*  .  „,  


',*tesa&^     »   .i^^«.£,- 1-'^^'' 


|CihB^BïL,H 


v-^t# 


^1^. 


f 


^/•T-^iP   rff£  BALL 


407 


the  resuit  would  be  the  sTme  wkh  '   h  ''^^^  "°  ^°"^^ 

clude  things  with^pSch  "    '    '  ^°"  '^^'  °"'^  P'^*"^«  ^°"- 

Lord  DynelV  to  kw>n  h.e   7V  •  ^^^  ^oncressault,  and 


l> 


l'"4 


H" 


l«^:\--^; 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


f -s  " 


r  ■  " 


CHE«  MADAME. 

hnvLf  ^K^S^^?  ^^'^'  ^^^"^^  Felipa  and  Lord 

Îk!  rfei^r''^-''^"^'^'  *"^  t^-e  knowledgegave 

the  forbidden  fruit  fresh  zest,  even  to  their  irderl 

pa  ates.     You  musi  feel  an  interest  in  a  handsome  and  de 

voted  young  cavalier,  lying  in  the  sunshine  at  yo^"  fee?  who" 

ï  '    '!;i-°r°""°'''  foryoursake.  maybe  lying  with  abullet 

through  his  heart.     As  well  as  Lord  Dynely  himself  fS 

.    knew  what  would  inevitably  take  place  in^he Tght  of  t^ 

SSo'ir^L^"^'  *°"^^  ?'^  youthfuland  i^'assle^d 
lordsWp  waà  begmning  senously  to  bore-her,  she  had  never 
before  been  one-half  so  sweët,  /o  witching,  as  to  day  , 

Half  an  hour  after  their  departure,  there  ratS  „n  i^ 
madanje's  door  a  fiacre,  from  which  Sighted  M    f  Prince 

Ini-  ^  ''''"'5  ^  ^'^"•^"S  '"^  coming,  with  mo  e  or  les"  of 
impatience  and  anxiety,  he  did  not  dôubt.  He  absobteh. 
s^ood  du,nb,  when  the  tall  chasseur,  indors;d  by  MamS 
Pauhne,  announced  madame's  departure,  and  wiîh  whom 

«  Gone  for  the  day  to  Asnières,  and  with  Lord  dISi  » 
he  repeated,  staring  at  them  blankly.     The  extent  oHhe  de 
fiant  audaèityabsolutely  took  his  bVeath  aw^y  ^^' 

u  „«?!"'  ^^''  ^-  ïe/"nce,"  Pauline  answered,  with  a  shnijr 
"  AÎd  TZfT^  ^r^  "^^'^  *°  ^^"^  ^°^  the  théâtre;"^' 

"^n^'^hf^  *?•  u^"'  ^?V"»e  ?  in  good  spirits,  or—" 

^fh^    u  ^'^  ^'l?^"'  ''P»"^^  M-  le  Prince.     She  dressed 

lor    ThLTi'  '^f  n"?^  *^^'  ^^  «>•  «vidently!  had  S 
,  lor.    I  heard  her  tell  him,  as  they  went   awa/ knghîng 


r        t        ^V^  ""^      *    4r  4C^^^^j'«#    tV^-Ùt^ 


1  and  Lord 

xcursion — 
rledge  gave 
:heir  jaded 
ne  and  de- 
rfeet,  who, 
ith  a  bullet 
elf,  Felicia 
ight  of  to- 
ipassioned 
had  never 

«y- 

led  up  to 
le  Prince. 

or  less  of 
absolutely 
Mam'selle 

whom. 
Dynely  !  " 
of  the  de- 

li  a  shrug, 
leatre." 
or  me  ?  " 

or " 

e  dressed 
',  had  mi- 


CffEZ  MADAME. 

p  h.s  rival,  he  lost  it  in  thltmn^^T^ P/ ^^^  hadremained 
t.ng  herself  right  had  rema  ned  Th.k'  '^°""  ^^^^^  of  "et 
hm|.  she  lost  it  in  that  hour  '^'  "^^'"^'^  «^^o  slighted 

what^o'^l?;.?^--»eP"  he  asked,  «the  little  captive- 

^^^{^^S^^^Z  ofï  ^^  %'^  -ov ed  to- 
Madame   holds  a  lit  le  J^iL?    ^^^^ris,  for  the  présent 

at  madame's  little  réception  SI     ^°"*""  °^  ^eing  présent 
she  may  hold  anotherT"  '^''^^  ^^^^^^  ^^o  know^  X„ 

-daU^a'^shi-S^^^^^  te^^^,r-^^^-*ave.arned 
Sçine  to  the  music  of  the  banA    f^  ^««^n  the  sunny    ^ 

madame  heard  nothing  exceo^tï^ /?î.  S^  ^^''«"^ï  ^S 
Enghsh  knight.  ^  "^'^P*  ^'^^  i^lI-bloHrn  flatterie^  çf  hS  - 

%JtVr  Viî^7h^ab':^j;f ,?- «-  -s  Of  the  most  de-     ^  ^^ 
self  mto  the  pleasure  nf  ?h        *  *^^''^'  madame  threw  h^r 
-ed,  each  ho^ur^t'e  ul^o^ "S  l^^J^^^  -hneth: 
for  to.morro«r  you  die,"  was  thV  w       '  ''""'''  ^"^  be  merrr 
was  nothing  ne.v.  and  nmhing'ru/rt'^  ^he?^ 

summer  warmth,  and  the  band  ni-  ï    ^^^  '""  ^hone  with  '' 

D.  Ventunni  wonld  shoot  h"m  o"  nm  hf'"T''  '^^  ^""<=e 
-        18  °'  "'"  ''"»  through-it  «ras 


■u 


*ir' 


M-   - 


'^^ 


mm_ 

CJTA'Z  MADAME. 

1 

410 

erlv  ^''"  n?"  tT""^:  P'^'  ^°"  ^™î  '  "  she  murmura  tend- 

^th^^ée?ï'~        ^^  ^"^  ""^°^'"g  ^'^^  ^  <^i'd.  ?ince  /am 
Hç  awoke  with  a  start. 

Erîl  V'  ml!l5"°  *  *,!"!?'  'o-morrow-dost  .hou  not  think  so 
pade„"lhr""°a  mrfj  ™»\»»H  "i'h  an  i„,. 

"  ■  onT;L''erJ::LrbHdtT„'d  .'^^  '^^^  ^  *^-'^  *»  »>- 


■¥ 
t- 


I 

4< 


^l^^^j^'Wj^^^^^- 


■^'   l''H^^['^^"^  r,pi^0^. 


CHEZ  MADAME. 


,-(fr 


* 


w 


411 


for  to-„ight  tLt' wmVevenî'm -ï'  •  ^  '^^^^  ^"^  engagement 

She  shrugged  her  sïoXs ^  ^t?"^  that  pleas^/'     «^^ 

.    '^^!l^>l!,w"iêht  at  mada.^rdo;r     ''^  '^°°^  ^°#^»^^  i^  the 

half  smile  pn  her  lips-so!^thouf  «     "!°î:.   ^here  was  a 

to  amuse  me  for  four  week       fe  morT'"-'^'  ^^^  '^«'P^^ 

Does  she  know.  ?  '^  Rrir  wo?       ™  "^^  ^^"  «"e  ask  ?  " 
does.     Also,  of  course."  râSbir!"^-'  '^"^  «^  ^«"^se  she 

•afely  out  of  the  way."  °'^^'^'  ^°^'n«  wearisome,  and 

au  rev^frl""^'^'  ''^^"'  ™-  -•/'  madame  said,  softly  »and 

4lT"^''    ^'"''^'   '^  "^""^''    """^"  -   -et 

tw^S^dpk'dTeS^r'^^^^^^^^^^^ 
Four  hour^  lâter,  and  the  Zttlr     '^  ""'^  °"  ^^«l»- 

men  m  Pans,  the  handsomest  Ldl"  ?    /'"■°"&-     ^he  best 
And  there,  when  the  recS^      ""^'.*  ^°™e"  «let  there 

versatipnatitsgayest,  SrSard'/'  l''  ^'S'^«^'  ^^e  co^: 
came  M.  le  Prince  Di  VeSi    ^  ^^-^g'^^^'- ^^  ^heiV  liveliest, 

^>^ot    unexpected.      "Whr.   i^.     u 
madame  had  demanded  whï»       ,    ^f^**   ^^^re,   Pauhne?" 
at  the  dressing-roornoî'  ^V^^'"  '^^  ^*°ds  of  her  maid.       - 

««  Th  [  ^^  r""  *°'d  him-J" 

Maqinn*»  l^..~u-.i -: 


'wieJaughed, 


«id  S?-'™"^'"  y-  8~-.  Pefe.    Aod  M.  .e  fti„ce-wl« 


6^  v'^iuk^;    ,        ***. 


%t-  .v^ 


•K- 


•  « 


412 


C/^i?Z  MADAME. 


é4 


f ,  ^ 


t' 

*. 

■f 


&^ 


"  Nothipg,  madame  ;  but  that  he  would  see  you  later  at 
the  réception."  ^  *' 

So  madame  knew  hè  was  coming,  and  was  prepared  for  afl 
chances.  War  or  peace— she  was  equal  to  eithèr  fate,  onlv 
a  tnfle  cunous.  Others  were  curious,  too  ;  that  little  <îon. 
tretemps  at  the  bal  d'opéra,  quiet  as  it  had  been  kept,  was 
known  and  people  shrewdly  suspected  that  Di  VenturinL 
noted  duehst  and  fire-eater,  would  not  let  the  matter  drép 
there.     How  would  he  meet  madame  ? 

He  made  his  way  slowly  through  the  rooms,  and  met  her 
hHhf'r  k"^  P°J'shed  courtesy,  told  her  of  his  journey,  of 
his  health  hoped  she  had  araused  herself  well  in  his  absence 
hngered  half  an  hour  among  the  guests,  and  then,  with  an 
elaborate  apology  for  his  early  departure,  went  away 

By  one  o'clock  the  rooms  were  empty,  the  lights  out. 
Madame  valued  her  good  looks  and  lustrouseyes  too  highlv 
to  keep  very  late  hours.  Paujol  had  quitted  his  post,  Pauline 
had  disrobed  her  mistress  of  silks  and  laces,  and  substîtuted 
a^dressmg-gown  In  her  room  Felicia  sat,  smoking  two  or 
three  nerve-soothmg  cigarettes  before  going  to  bed.  In  the 
boudoir  without  Pauline  sat,  waiting,  half-asle^p,'  with  her 
mistress  night  draught  of  spiced  wine  and  eggs  6n  the  table 
before  her.     Madame  often  sat  dozing  and  dreaiiing  over 

So  to-night  she  lay  luxunously  back  in  her  chair,  her  eyes 
closed,  the  rbse-scented  smoke  curling  upward,  when  a  man  * 
made  his  way  noiselessly  into  the  boudoir  from  the  street. 
He  glanced  at  the  sleeping  Pauline,  at  the  waiting  night 
draught,  and  passedon  mto  the  dressing-room,  into  the  bed- 
rooni,  and  so  came,  still  noiselessly,  upon  madame. 

He  stood  for  a  moment  looking  dowti  upon  her.     She  had 
not  heard  him,  bpt  some  baleful,  mesmeric  influence  warned 

«nH  1^  T/JT'-  ^H"**  "P  suddenly,  opened  her  eyes, 
and  looked  full  mto  the  yellow  face  of  Prince  Di  Ventu- 
nni.  N  f  ,         ■ 

For  a  second  there  was  silence.     She  was  a  plucky  little 

r™f  '  cw  ?"S"*  ."^'"''^  ^''°"*  ^^'^  *"d  ""ered  no  Word  oi 
jgund.    Shelooked  at  fam  «tfiMght,  sflent,  then  t  "  Monsienr  - 


ift'Mlk--^ . 


fâl^^Si^ft'MlÉ*-^  <3ip»  ' 


ron  later  at 

arpd  for  aQ 
r  fate,  only 

little  ion- 
I  kept,  was 

Venturini, 
latter  dr«p 

id  met  lier 
iourney,  of 
is  absence, 
D,  with  an 
•ay. 

lights  out, 
too  highly 
st,  Pauline 
iubstltuted 
ng,  two  or 
I.  In  the 
,'  with  her 
i  the  table 
iiing  over 
irl  waited. 
',  her  eyes 
>en  a  tnan  ' 
he  Street, 
ting  night 
)  the  bed- 

She  had 
:e  wamed 
her  eyes, 
)i  Ventu- 

icky  littlç 
>  Word  et 
Monsieur 


C/IEZ  MADAM£. 


*stolL7y™°"'"'  ™''"™-    I  "•"'  I  "ave  „o.  .00  peady 
^A^mocking  s.i,e  „as  on  hi.  Hp».     Sh.  l„„ted  at  hi™  dis- 

c^nr^^'srk^vtfb'urr  %  f  ^-  ^  "--„,  , 

What  «ras  Pauiol  abnnî  ,h.,  ^    •  ''"'  '"''  ""'«  are  «ood 

,  ilP^-.Jolwafalreepltf™  ""'"=''  —""ncedf ..°"' 
J  "And,  Pauline?"  ^ 

.  m^a"^,:""'  ''  """P  >'«>  '"  3"""-  boudoir.     I,  i,  p,,,  ,„„_ 

"  Il  could  no",  roS.      B  '°-"'<'"<"'.  I  "onder  ?  "       " 
«.e  fronder.  and'vTr^r^»^^™—  '  ^-a"  be  apros, 

"vo?™ia:îf,[î;rîi;d'4j-';^  ^'  •"■"  -i'-'"*'^- 

<'fc'd"Tca'°o'^';  "^tlTt  ;S"c''  an  ■»;„  as  he 
madame  n>ust  lose  her  loverbut^'.      "°°^     '  ««ret  that 

;!«.  lïJfec."  :rnls  .n-.  hï;;^,,'  '  ■  "■^"'^■"=  — «. 


with 


"•"*  i^^iicci  sang-troid  •  <«  Hp  ««o  u  .  .""""^  «"i&werea, 
.  Grand  passions  fre  âlways  in  bad  ?n'^""'"f  '°  ^°^^  «"«' 
was  ludicrously  in  earn^si  Welî  nf  •'  ^""^  P^^""  '^°>''  ^^^ 
to-morrow,  I  suppose  Imn,f  ^'  '««"s^e"^  as  you  départ 
thisimproi^erhour  andin^h?  ^^^^°"  ^"  audience,  even  at 
to  the  boudoir  P        '"  thisapartraenf,  or-shall  wé  adjourn 

He  laughed  derisively.  -  ' 

str;&t^„^À'-''="dr,ottei?r;:-pSe'r,iï: 

Sheneverflinched.    He  k  lew  ,hat  "hen 

«and"rc?rern  -iThlrh^sb-^i'   ><■  "^  <""'  "<« 
Iknowall!"        ^^  "'"' <■"«  s  husband.    You  see,  madame, 

^e  s.,Ued-^3^  .h^  ^„^^^^^^_^^^^ 


"  ;""'  "^'^"^'^  ^^"«^*-'  '^^  «h'e  keeps  caged  up  like  a 


r'\ 


.^.h 

':&, 


j.^11 


't/ 


►  -va 


♦, 


r' 


s '^  ?«.<•- «• 


['^^ 


414 


wild  animal— what  of  her  ?    You  see  I  knoyy  tKat  also.    -And 
ail  the  lies  madame  has  been  telling  me  from  the  first — what 
,  ofthem?"  ^    #, 

"  Nothing  of  them.    And  lies  is  an  ugly  word  to  iise  to  a 

"  Diable  !  do  you  sit  there  and  mock  at  me  1    "Dq^u  sit 
thereanddeny  this?"  ^^-«X 

''  I  deny  nothing,  monsieur.     I  affirm  nothing.  Jm..  le 
Prince  will  believe  predsely  what  he  pleases."  '  ■■    • 

"  And  do  you  think — do  you  for  a  moment  think,  I  will" 
marry  you  after  ail  this  i^    You,  the  cast-ofT  wife  of  this  man 
Caryll.     You,  |he  mother  of  this  girl — ** 

"  Stay  l  M.  le  Pri^e,"  Felicia  said,  wîth  one  flash  of  her 
yellow  black  eyès.  "You  hâve  said  qûi^  enough  I  No,  I 
do  not  think  you  -will  marry  me.  I  î«|g|iid  not  marry  you, 
with  yourdiabolical  temper  and  jealousj',  if  you  were  kingof 
Italy,  much  less  owner  of  a  beggarly  principality.  I  don't 
really  think  I  ever  meant  to  marry  you  at  ail — you  ^re 
much  too  old,  and,  if  you  will  pardon  me,  too  ugly.  I  adore 
handsome  men— Gordon  Garyll  and  Lôrd  Dynely  are  that;  at 
least.  And  De  Vocqsal— you  remember  the  Austrian  mar- 
quis, I  think,  prince  ?  Yes— welj/  De  Vocqsal  is  coming  to 
Paris  next  week,  and  is  more  urgent  than  ever  that  I  shall 
become  Madame  la  Marquise.  He  is  young,  he  is  hands»me, 
he  has  fourteen  quarterings,  and  a  rent-roU  that  is  fabulous. 
He  never  calls  me  ugly  names,  and  is  much  too  gallant  a  gen- 
tleman to  intrude  into  a  lad/s  chamber  at  two  in  the  niorn- 
ing  on  purpose  to  insuit  her.  Hère  is  your  ring,  prince  j  it 
never  fitted  ffom  the  first,  and  I  am  glad  to  be  rid  of  it.  It 
is  the  only  présent  you  ever  gave  me,  so  I  hâve,  happily, 
nothing  to  return.  Now  let  me  say  good-night  and  bon  voy- 
age, for  I  am  really  very  sleepy."  * 

She  yawned  aloud,  as  she  remôved  the  heavy  diamond 

from  her  finger  and^  held  it  out  to  him.  ' 

"  Good-night,  prince  j  and  a  pleasant  trip  to  you  bpth — he, 

pauvre  enfant,  to  the  next  worid,  and  you— to  Italy,  is  it  ? 

Take  your  ring,  monsieur,  and  go." 

He  took  it,  and  stood  looking  at  her,  his  face  cadaverous, 


r 


"Q 


V, 


É^kiffiii-^-'*'*^''^"  ^'^i^'^i:^ 


J5^ 


,■■■■    ■■\-^f' 


II 


■A»*- 


,  it 
It 


CHEZ^  MADAME. 


415 


"his  ejt^s  like  coals.    «  Vou  tell   me  this  ?    You  mean  to' 
marry  De  Vocqsal  ?"      / 

"  l'am  growing  tired  ôf  the  stage.  Even  that^zW».  Yes- 
J  shall  marry  De  Voçq$al,  prince,  and  become  a  fine  lady  "  ' 

"Thisistheend,  Ihen?"  -^    ' 

'  "  Oh,  mon  Dieu  !  yés,  if  you  ever  mean  to  go.     How  can 
■tçere  be  an  end  while  you  loiter  hère  ?    Go  I  go  !  I  insist" 

He  laughed. 

"  Igo,  madame  ;  pray  do  not  say  it  again.  Thanks  for 
your  good  wishes.     Accept  my  congratulations  beforehand. 

Vj  ,'^  ^  bnlliant  destiny  tp  be  Madame  la  Marquise  de  Vocq- 

sal. "  Good-night,  and  adieu." 

^  He  bowed  Ipw,  and  was  gone— through  the  dressing-room, 

and  into_the  sittmg^-oom  beyond.  Hère,  Pauline,  still 
guardmg  Ihe  wme,  aad  fàst  asleep  riow,  sU  in  the  dim  lighi. 

He  went  t^  the  table,^omething  between  his  fingers,  a  shill- 
ing globule,  aiid  dropped  it  into  the  glass.  •  The  bell  rang 
sharply  at  the  moment.  Pauline  started  up,  with  a  cry,  and 
Di  Venturmi  vanished  through  the  t)uter  door. 

♦'^Madanie  ijever  misses  her  nîght  draught,  so  Pauline  tells 
me,  he  said  to  hnnself,  with  a  sardonic  smile,  as  he  leaped 
mto  his  waiting  cab  ;  "  she  wiU  not  miss  it  to-nighî  ;  and  once 
dl-ank,  there  is  a  longer  joumey  before  her  than  a  bridai  trip 
to  the  impérial  court  of  Francis  Joseph.  So  good-niirht  to 
-    you,  madame,  and  bon  voyage  1  "  r  » 


..I» 


,^.- 


.  ï^w»;  •■■ 


} 


■'«:'1!i;.;. 


•-' 


CHAPTER  XV.  '.     A 

'HOW  THE   NIGHT   FELL." 

RpM    the    window    of  her  room,  Crystal    Ladv 

ma!;  Sarn''"';'^  ^"'""^'^^  «f^»^^^  o/ercast  Fetî 
orhalTb^SH  ?°^"-.She  layon  a  broad.  W 

almos.  mvanably  brought  Éric,  to  drLs  or  S  '^*"'  ^°'  " 

voi?;'srtrra;'  '°K' ''n.'r'Sd''"*  '"r  -<"■■"« 

«roman  ?    nh  l  ,^  ï?     ff '— that  wickcd,  beautiful,  brown 


-l 


£t  ,  .-i  ^..fa    'l^àJ"^ 


*'!- 


.•-*  •■  1 


**HOW  ^THE  NIGHT  FELL." 


417 


wicked— this  unreasoning  worship  of  hers  :  but  wicked  or   ^ 
worthy,  U  woHld  last  until  her  life's  end.     She  could  see  C 

What  a  p  tifu    pale  face  it.^as  !     And  he  liked  rosy  bloom. 
Pf  ^hy,  plent.ful  flesh  and  blood.     The  dancing  woman  hLd 

Pîarl  face,  and  her  true  and  tender  heart.     Good  and  pleas- 

Z  &'  •  •'"'  î°^  "'^''>'J°"«  ^"  «^«^^  ^  ««"«"0"t  change 
fui,  beauty-worshipp.ng,  thoroughly  selfish  man.     Dimiy  she 

knew  this.  and  w.th  a  half  sob,  buried  that  poor.  was  èd  face 
in  her  hands.  He  had  fancied  her  fron,  the  firltTonly  for 
her  pretty.  flower-like  looks  ;  let  her  lose  thèse  charnu,  as 
she  was  k>sing  fast,  and  her  last  hold  on  her  husband's  hêart 
was  gone. 

hear  the  door  pushéd  gently  open,  and  a  tall  figure  corne 
tr  .  a''^'^^  softly  over,  and  knelt  on  one  knee  beside 
her,  and  so,  ,n  the  duskof  the  room,  looked  down  upon  the 
color  ess.  wasted  face,  the  locked  hands,  from  which  the 

'  ^ut^  7"f.  •?""«  '°°'^-     Suddenly  her  eyes  opened. 
It  is  I,  Cnssy,"  he  said. 

,.n J?1^J  qÏI'^T'*  't°^  ^^^°8^^  *°  ''"^  °^  e'^^^tric  surprise 
n»l^  ^'u  K  fl»"«  her  arnis  around  his  neck.  and  held  bira 
as  though  she  would  never  let  him  go. 

"Poor  IJWe  soûl  !  "  he  said,  more  moved  than  he  cared 
to  shQW.     '•  You  hâve  been  alone  aU  day,  and  hâve  got  the 

"Yes,both.  Yourmotherstayedanhour,andthenwent  . 
to  raake  some  calls  with  Terry.  France  stayed  and  read  to 
me  ail  the  morning.  She  is  so  good— niy  own  dear  France. 
They  are  ail  good,  but-but,"  the  clinging  arms  close  to- 
getner,  he  can  feel  her  passionate  heart  beat:  «'Oh.  mv 
love  1  I  only  want  you.  ^ 

"  Poor  little  Chris  !  "  / 

It  is  ail  he  car»  say.     He  lays  Ws  face  beside  hers  for  a 

ruomettt,  and  is  still.    He  is  thinking  of  this  time  to-morrow 

-^^^^^.^  surelyas  that  he  rests  hère,  ^hat  the  iîH!tef-=- 

that  kills  him  will  end  her  life.     And  if  is  for  that  dark 

lo       • 


I   '- 


ii 


>>a 


if 


•■  fumif';. 


Stâs 


-■«e 


-ïfe 


,  vjï'j'f'r  ^  î»«/ 


,^^5 


418 


"/ri?»'  THE  NIGHT  FELl» 


daughter  of  Herodias,  he  has  forsakèn  her.  Ail  at  once  a 
loathmg  of  Pehcia,  of  himself,  cornes  upon  hira.  What  a 
black  and  brutal  wrétch  he  is!  how  utterly  unwortb^  of  this 
.  spodess  wife,  uhose  heart  he  is  breaking.  Ifthe  past  could 
but  corne  over  agam  I  if  whàt  is  donc  could  be  undone,  hôw 
differently  he  .woiild  act,  how  happy  he  would  make  her. 
iiut  it  is  too  late  for  ail  that— the  end  has  gpme 

'  J[^l^u^V'  ï^xf^^  «ently,  «l've  norbeen  averygood 
sort  of  husband,  Vm  afraid-I  never  was  a  veiygood  sort 
of  fellow  at  any  time.  l've  done  enough  to  forfeit  ail  right 
to  your  love,  but— you  care  for  me  still  ?" 

"  Care  for  ydu  !  "  she  whispered.     And  then  the  cirneing 
grasp  tightens,  and  shecan  say  no  more. 

"  Yes,  I  know  you  do,"  he  says,  with  a  stifled  sigh  :  «ifs 

awfully  good  of  you,  Chris,  for  I  hâve  been  a  brute,  thafs 

the  truth.     And  look  hère,  I  don't  mean  this  really,  you 

know  but  if  anythmg  happened  ;  if  "— with  a  slight  lauch— 

I  chanced  to  die,  for  instance—" 

But  she  interrupts  him  with  a  shrill  cry,  like  a  child  that 
has  been  struck. 

"Eric!"  :  ^  ' 

•   "Foolish  child!     Do  I  look  like'*dying?  *  It  is  onlv  a 

.  suppositious  case— let  me  put  it.     If  I  chanced  to  die.  sav 

to-morrow,  you  Would  forgive  me  ail  my  wrongrfoing,  my 

neglect?    You  wotita  not  hâve  one  hard  thought  of  me. 

would  you  ?"  6       »  "*^r 

She  half  raises  herself,  and  tries  to  look  at  him.     But,  still 
laughmg,  he  holds  her  so  that  she  "cannot  see  his  face 
"  Answer,  sweetheart— woùld  you?"  ' 
.    "  I  never  had  one  hard  thought  of  you  in  ail  my  life,  Eric, 
never,  so  I  could  hâve  nothing  to  forgive.    If  you  died  "•- 
she  catches  her  breath  with  a  sort  of  gasp  as  she  says  it— 
"do  you  thmk  I  could  live?    Oh,  love,  that  is  alï  past.     I   .. 
can  never  hâve  any  life  now  apart  from  you  I  ' 

"You  thjnk  so,"  he  says,  uneasily;  "but  you  are  young. 
and— you  6oly  thmk  so."  /  "  «1 

'     "I  know  s^"  she  answers,  under  her  breath  ;  and  instinc 
tively  he  knows  it  too. 


^WdV'^^<«y^i>a^-K?ngth^afte^ll^ony]mflse,"ï^^^^^ 


■^l**!^.. 


^ . 


Ijf-s»-^     ^ 


V-'^'K  ^^h'<,  ^>/,".^nN'>t''|FW^^' 


"j^aV 


"J/OfV  THE  NIGHT  FELL» 


419 


are  useless,  but  I  wish  with  ail  Kiy  soûl  the  past  three  weeks 

co nid  corne  over  again.     I  ought  to  hâve  made  you  hippy 

httle  wife  and  I  hâve  not.     If-if  the  time  is  given  me  ^f 

swear  I  mil.     Now,  let  me  go  ;  I  hâve  letters  to  write  and 

much  to  do  this  evening."  '    ^ 

.lYou/'—she  pauses,  and  looks  at  him  with  oh,  such  wist- 

fuUong,ng  eyes-"you  are  going  out,  as  usual,  Érié?" 

-     Wo,    he  says,  smihng  down  upon  her.     "  I  am  goine  to 

repiam  m    as  ««-usual,  Crystal.     Lie  hère  until  dlnneVS 

announced;  I  w.U  wnte  my  létters  in  your  boudoir.     You 

corne  onT''     ^^^'  ^^  ^°"^  ""^^^  ""^  epistolatory  attacks 

r.St  ""'°°^«  theclasping  arms  and  goes.  And  Crystal 
nestles  down  among  her  piUows,  and  shuts  her  eyes  to  keS, 
back  the  joyful  tears  that  corne  to  women  aliké  in  bliss  and 
m  pam  Just  now  her  bliss  is  so  great,  that  it  is  almost 
pam  ;  she  cannot,  cannot  réalize  it. 

mîîînr  F^'!f  '  "^^""l^  ""^^  aressing-room,  into  the  pretty;"^ 
mirror-hned,  satin-hung  nest  beyond,  that  is  Crystal's  su^ng! 
room  leavmg  both  doors  ajar.  He  lights  the  lamps  l^ihiselC 
dmws  pens,  mk  and  paper  before  him,  and  sit^down  to 
h^L.!wK  "\"st  leavea  few  parting  Unes  with  ^oviUe  for 
his  mother  and  Crystal  in  case  of  the  worst.  lie  wishes  he 
had  made  awai  to-day  instead  of  going  to  A^liières,  but  it  is 
too  late  for  that  The  title  and  estate/go  to  â  distant 
cousin  pfhjs  fathei's,  unless-yes,  there  iS  o?e  unle^s.  Itl 
fsTnlike?  »»as  never  spoken^-he  thinks  himself  it 

"Byjove!"  he  says,  under  his^eath.  «I  hope  so,  for 
her  sake  poor  httle  soûl.  It  mil  console  her;  and  dead  or 
alive,  a  fellow  likes  to  perpetijàte  the  title  " 
HJî^r5'"'ï5'^  T^V'^  letter  first.  It  j««l  be  the  casier. 
«;«.r  M^  ^T^  ^"t  ^T'^'  February  26,  18-.  My  dear 
mother,  and  there  he  ^ops,  and  gnaws  the  gold  handle  cl 
h  s  pen,  and  pulls  his^amber  mustache,  and  stares  at  the 
blank  sheet  with  troubled  blue  eyes.    What  shaU  he  say  ? 

■*"4|y  *»<^.'«  Preli^n^nes^are  worse  than  the  thing  itself. 
4he  ininutes/^fék  offc-still  he  sits  a«d  stares  at  the  whit« 


# 
.#*- 


f 


'#. 


,A 


ri 


11 


ii«- 


!  I 


420 


••//O»'  THE  NIGHT  FELL** 


Eric  Lord  D,„X  rverl:,  ^re^^i^'l^ru^i'^^-Pr 
refuge  of  the  de<;Ht•l^*.    K-^r      '■"^want  oi  the  latter— that 

down  in  the  ink  detom?n~f  ' '"8*'  "-e  pen  in  desperalion 
door  is  burs.  Lden,T?^:'a^V¥irn*"^  °'  P"'^"^  *« 

=ye,  andWs  n'pTo  hi™  â.Tce   ^''^  °'  '^='  «"'«'  »' 
Eric,  «rhatisthis?    Isittme?" 

amS^a^ra-S"  "^  f  "'  ^"^  ""^"^  ='-  "'"■  l-ughty 

othlP dâ^"""^  "«^"  '  '^  '^'"  ""^  P»»«d  be.ween  us  ,he 

"Is  whae  tnie?"  still  in  hâughty  anger 
ou.  JX":'„J"h"e  dJ„I;:S™iin/  'r  ^f — H 

ButI  did  not   thînk  voTwouW  ^L^^^^^ 

Dynely.  as  to  accept  his  chlSenl      t^!"^— ^^^  '«  ™^<^' 

"It  is  quite  true      vr»?  t  •  ^^"    .^^"  "'«'  »«  't  true?" 
Mr.  Dennison  ?  "         ^^^  ^  '"^"""^  '»  ^hat  way  it  concerni, 

Eric,Isay,L2tnôtgoo;?'''~'"'  "  '^  "°'^'"«  !««• 
prévemitl'"-""'^  '  ^"^^^-     "H°-  <Jo  you  propose  to 

"  I  wiU  give  information  to  the  oolice    't  „,n     t 
If  I  can  stop  it  in  no  other  wav  th^  «!'«  l^"^^"^  «^«*'"  ' 
on^.,e,g,o„nd  ber„„  ,^.'' ^^^  S^^S  ^l^ 


7- 


1,..  ',v' **■'.%'• , 


'    V 


^  421 

when  and  where  he  pleases"  Ventunni 

that  you  don^t  stand  r  i,       "°^x^  V'  ^  ^^^^  «^ot,  and  - 
shadowofachance     Ad^eîl'Sh    ?u-'  ^T.  J°^"'  "«'  ^^e  ^ 

^^pall  u  by  what  name  fou  please,  only  be  kind  enough 
chance  I  reZÀ     hITa       '  i^r"..''*^^"^  ^  ^hadow  of  a     • 

Inisisallnonsensel"  Erirrri*./^  o«-,n«-i       j- 

-"  a  waste  of  time.     I  hâve  leUei  Z^ïi^""^  >™Pat.ently 

to  get  to  bed  earlv  to  ni^hT    ir        !  î?  Y"*^'  *"^  ^  ^ant 

doo'nyou.co't^rJ^errfhL^^^^^^^^^^ 

ma^r  I  can't  and  won't  show  the  whfte  feathlr     î^''^ ''  ' 
tunni  has  challenjred  me   Z/r         1    feather.     Di  Ven-    , 


u  at  lo  uisgrace  t[^e  name.     Hâve  W..  i^a^-ered  i7in  ,X  lI-t- 


>.  « 


l'i 


'•X>|^ 


l^œ^^MhAr^É;;' 


Rf. 


A 


J'         il- 

> 


422 


"^OHr  THE  mCHT  FELL.^ 


'     >        well  as  I.     Let  me  meet  th^  tVoiJI  *"^™--*'^**.yo"  ^^now  as 
l'ni  a  better  shorth^n  foi  Idî^n  ''""'"?'  '"  your  place. 

-V        "  You  taHc  like  a  pulS  babv     ^tt'  ^'^^^^^^SP^ ^he hand. 
'         in  my  place,  and  /sneak  at  hL.  H?  •^'''' ."•  ^^^^'  Venturini 
behind'thep^tticoit"?™;^,^^^^^^^ 

ferry  drewl^ack,  and  fold?d  his  arms. 
prince  "'"'"'"''^  the„.Dynely?    You  mean  to  »n.et  the 

'    undeTtTre:fi.nht"aliud*1.!^^^^^^ 

^^ii^r  'T^^-  nfealrkfiryr?.--' 

/  Terry.rilfor/ve^ou'^^^^^^  No«^.  then 

if  you41  only  Le  v^riK  o?^      "^^'^Ï'^S '°"  "y  «'ord, 
.       foinded  borer  Whenf  man  .ln"7'  ?"k  ''°.P  ^eing  acon-'  . 
,.  ^ayhe„atura„yïïr^d^7p^tn^^^^ 

He  never  finished  the  sentence     wSPf^    J    u- 
y .  horror.  Dennison  was  pointing  to  the  doo^  nf^2  fl^^ 

"  Great  Heaven  I  Crystal  I"  Eric'iied 


«*: 


K;JCs  i«M«&fl .  ►  «^'i,,-!.  v«i''i^£^,^  .«iiXB  /a-ât  *  «lu 


/.Vi 


The^ 


*.  T 


'^mr-'^^ 


"IfOfV  THE  me  HT  FELL.» 


423 


blood  âowing  fromTXs  '  '  '""""  °'  ''"«'«  "^ 

.oT!i'ld!.7,r,V°°'^  P"'^"''  horror-stricken.     U  was  al. 


witted 
lifel 


onslauffht  had  heen   c^  o   -^       ""nself  from  fallmg. .  The 

only  where  the  red,  cruel  ^S"oni/h";  '"""«,"  «hastly, 
he  pluDged  blindlvXr  ^.  -,  ''™.'^"î'°'''»)'-  Then 
Eric  hal  stoopl75^d  h?.  S?    ■*"':•  ■'"'  "  *«  '"«>■" 

fac^rrit'^S.I;?',""^  ï'  ""  »«>™^'  'hewall,  and  hi, 


^■^Vff',,     ^ 


'^'. 


ît 


/ 


K 


■*'■- 


■V,  ■>■ 


"ïpM 


II 

t 

KR  I^HLji*^ 

11^^^^^ 

PII  ^H^i^ 

li^^l 

Pc>"   . 

\- 


"%. 


M"' 


»    • 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


LOYAL  AU   MORT.V. 


TRAIGHT  to  the  Faubourg  St.  Honore   st'raiahi 

might  be  dying-was,  no  doubt,  and  he  woirld  be 
beforé  any  of  Eric's  niessengers  to  break  Z Tpw! 
to  Enc's  mother.     His  teethVére  ^«.f  hicfle»  ^  •  ^^^ 

clenched,  his  blue^  eyes  aflame      th^  blof  ZT'''^"''^ 

in  her";Srfl''-°'"MS=''™""'^'<""-    «he  came  rustling 

leW'eTal;3'L*?r„|of.ferXÉrSl^  ."  t''^ 
bonn«  „as  on  >fJ  »^:.t:!^Xi^Zot'ô^ l^!T, 
prie  face  „  excted  sparkle  in  her  ight  blue  eyes     As  Z' 

__  _   ,j.«sMt  -«iim™»  uu  l^Jear^  I  »as  just  st«rlfng.fbl  — 


S 


^t^lpl 

j  *     '  "'•      i. 

i^m^ 

W^  1 

I 

* 

1 

(  t-. 


)i 


"LOYAL  AU  MORT» 


tell  me,  it  ïs  only  a  rumor    tï./  k       -,',  ^^"^  '  ^P^^"^  ^nd 

.    n,„ïio*for„o:'.'"     «' *- i-h- t-th  haid.    AU 
"  Of  what  do  you  speak,  I,ady  Dynely  ?  ■•  ' 

■     of  his  wife,  .poor  little  créa  nVe  ^^?H  1,^  "^  """^  ^'^  "^«'^^^ 
horrible  dancer.  .  Oh  !  S  a  /rn?hr     "  "^""'"^  ^^'"'-  '^^^ 

"What  was  it  De  Concressai^ll  ,aid  ?  •■  inquired  he  aloud 

tho  prince  down  a»ain  .«i  1  ^".^"™'^"<i  ">at  Eric  knocked     , 
changé  !ïr<ir4  and  gfdi'cTfo  "^t,'""  '™^  "'"'  '» 

bruised'and  ^^  ^e     .   "  ''"  """"«'•  ""<""«  '» 

.'  Terry,  I  commandîyonl    Soeak  anrî  t<»lf  «,..     •    .w 
fitorytiue?"  ^^i^caK  ana  teiI  me— is  thw 

ii^Çl^fc^  «"^  afr«d  »t  is." 
^ane  .lain  .hjM; -ha»j^j»i^^^  fc .„  i.  r~- 


"Ami  E™  went  there  with  that'.onji^^hT,  ^S^ Stag  « 


;!'."?«S 


<  > 


'e 


I 


-m 
t 

'1^ 


et   ' 


r 

r< 


„«.«fev. 


i„â 


m 


426 


•K 


'  ( 


P|i:';-    ' 


** LOYAL  AU  MOATr 


pSrn-^v  f  .*\t..^'<^J^ed  dancing-place,  and  insulted 
JrTince  Di  Ventunni?"  ... 

"My  lady— yes." 

He  spoke  reluctantly,  teach  admission  dragged  from  hiiu. 
Falsehoods  came  never  readily  to  Dennison,  and  then.  o« 
what  use  weie  falsehoods  hère  ?     Shew«j/know. 

"  He  insulted  Di  Venturini,  a  man  who  fights  duels  upon 
the  smallest  provocation— who  wilî  take  no  insUlts  from  any 
one  Terry,  tell  me-^tell  me  the  truth,  I  cçmmand  !  Has 
Ui  venturm;  challenged  Eric  ?" 

"Lady  Dynely,  I  am  sorry,,sorry  to  hâve  to  say  once 
more — yes.    '  *  , 

Her  blue  eyes  dilated,  the  last  trace  of  color  faded  from 
ner  lace.  ♦ 

has-^1''^"'''*"  ^^^  ^^^'    '"  a  sort  of  t^hisper.     «Eric 

"  Acc^pted.  There  was  no  alternative.  I  am  very  sorry," 
Dennisôn  said  agam.  ^        ^ 

She  ^at  down  sUddenly  on  a  sofa  near,  so  ghastly  that  he 
dr^close  m  alarm.  '       *        ' 

Sh^I^^  ^^"^^y^  g°°^  Heaven!  'you  are  going  to  faint.  , 

w«fift^3Ti^i?  to  besrill,  the  sick,  giddy  faintness  that 
was  hke  déath,  holdmg  her  speechless.  1, 

T  " ^?'*\L^''^'^S'  ''^*''  ^ g^P-     " I-I  won'haint.    Oh, 
q7  'k  t^lfV'^'i'"  ^    ^^^  ""'y  Eric  !  my  son,  my  son." 
bhe  buried  her  face  m  her  hands  and  was  still,  whether' 
crying  or  Iprayii^  Terry  could  not  tell.     He  stood  uneasily 
lookmg  atelier,  feelmg  hombly  uncomfortable,  not  knowini 
m  the  least  what  to  do  or  say.  •      ""*'"» 

:J^^  !?°K  l"^  u  P  ^^^^  *  ™°™ent.    Her  eyes  were  r:^d  and 
mflamed,  but  she  was  not  crying,      ' 

"  When  do  they  meet  ?    The  truth,  I  insist." 

under °hirbreth"'°™'"^ "'  ^''^^'^^^"  ^'  "^'"'"'^  ^"^^'^ 

.iZâ^'f  ^^7  fight  with  pistols?"  she  shuddered,  convul-   ' 
«vely,  from  head  to  foot,  as  she  said  ît. 
"  With  pistols." 


"  witn  pistois."     ^  _       -    „     _ 
^AndDÎ  Venturini  willkillhiml"  she  çried  out,  rising 


:S!^->é^^Èè^$ài:}?^fSil^;\jU-,    ,H*.-^    ■^.i  *    .^x.K 


y      -  »     •<  .     j  .      Ji 


rm^mim'  '      1 

IP^'A 

't'''.- 

It^f. 


J-f^f 


n 


'^. 


*•*?'*' y 


** LOYAL  AU  MORT." 


427 

to  me,  and  you  hâve  br^tea-ymir^th      YouW^ïf  T 
bw'  put  out  his  hand  blindly,  as  thougir^àrd  o«  a 

corne  hère  andtell'„,e  thaï  .o.Jrranou^"utr„dS>vIS 
1  uc  wiu  iisten  to  me— to  mç,   a  most  wretched 


TT 


'^■"^i  «: 


Â 


m 


h 


t- 1 


428 


"LOYAL  AU  MORT*' 


Lady  Dynely,  you  must  not  gq.     For  pitVs  sate  «f»*, 
a  moment  longer    Eric  will  never  f^giveyonTyou^oth^^t 
"  He  will  not  be  alive  to-morrow  morniL  if  I  do  IfS 

i.j"f.r._rs£,t-.s;,a.i-:as,tr 

"  Terry  !  "  shj^  exclaimed,  «  what  is  this  ?  " 
brow  to"ch1n  "" nT~^  ^"'"^■"^'  ^^^'"«^"ï  <^ri'"«on.  from 


F 


the  truth  burst  upon 
."Terry!"  ahe  m 


this  !  " 


cried  out  in  new  horror,  "Eric  bas  donc 

«rongly  enough  once  .cnight    Ut  „,e  forge",h'rb°C  tf  î 
.a^!;^?;"?  ''Z^l  ^:^  --.  ^--d  -'-d  «,e  bn„al 

Forgive  him,  hâve  pitv  on  me      Tn  L»;»  "^* 

must.  prevent  this  duel      He  is  aîl  ITv^^T  "*",'  ^^'îî 

^him  so  fondfy-oh  I  with  more  than  m^h^^s  ^"'1^^*^ 

1     ^iç  lie  nas  gone  pcopia  bave  loyred  anif^ 


^■frrK'^';^"^^.^ 


'•.:^^p:0^:i,i..U^ 


"LOYAl  AU  MORT.» 


429 


adimred  him.  He  is  ail  I  hâve-  -ail  I  ever  had.  M  y  heart 
is  wrappeH  up  m  him.  He  worries  nie-he  troub/es  fte 
but  I  couia  not  live  if  I  lost  him.  Terry  !  Terr^!  pt^fê 
--pit^^hln,  He  ,s  soyoung-hfe  is  so  bright  for  him^  Vi  y 
hi8  wife,  whom  you  love— and  in  sonie  way— oh  in  aZ 
way!  savehis  life."  '^y— on,  in  any 

whîîhTT  ^^^^  J^i™^ÇJose-her  pale  passionate  face,  over  " 
which  the  tears  p<)ured,  was  upheld  to  his.     So  in  the  su- 
prême seîfishness  of  mother  love,  she  pleaded.     In  some 

Sr;%enSr"''^  ''''  "^^  '''  °"'^  '^^^'^^^  ^'°P«  --^^ 

hJI^.;?*®°'^  '?^-^.  Vriblé  struggle  going  on  within  him; 
S  tït  T^  T  ^"'^  ^"  ^"  Sood  faith  andfello^ip,  ready 
AnHF  '  place  to-n,orrow  before  Di  Venturini's  pistoL 
And  Erjc's  answer  had  been  a  blow.     No  man  had  ever  Sruck 

Hke  a  brand  at  this  moment.  And  he  was  called  upon  to 
forg,ve  th.s-th,s  and  the  hundred  other  insults  Eric  Dynely 
had  offered  him,  and  at  ail  risks  save  his  life.  ^ 

••Terry,'!'^Lady  Pynely  said,  stiU  holding  him  close  '*do 
you  remember  that  afternoon  last  August?^  \Ve  were  klone 
together  at  Dynely,  and  I  told  you  yoSr  story.    I  need  never 

^v  U^  '^  ^TT-'"^''  ''^'  '^''^  ^°  '"^'^^  ™«  ?  You  knelt  a[ 
my  teet,  and  I  put  my  arms  around  you,  and  kissed  you  for 

iot    oh   T;     ^^«^«i' /««^^hen-I  hâve  loved  you  since,  bu 
2^t-oh,  no  !  not  as  I  loved  Aim.     Do  you  remember  what  I 
^id_^to  you  that  day  ?  Do  you  remember  what  you  prot^sed 

h.^w  ^'^^^^^  ^"s^«r-  She  does  not  know  what  she  is  ask- 
tnghimtodo.  She  does  not  know  of  the  struggle  thaVis 
gomg  on  m  the  heart,  beating  in  such  hard  throbs  Lainst  her 

^1}  ""^^^  îîr^"'  -^^  ^^°^S^  ''  "^^""^  this  moment,"  she  softly 
went   on.     «I  said  to  ydu,  'Be  a  friei^,  â  brother  to  my 

L^i  I  f  "ir"°-n^'ï^  you-he  is  reckless  and  extravagant, 
easily  led  self-wiUed,  and  wild.     He  wiU  go  wrong,  an/you 

He^4e«^te«n>tyau^^ 


.'-?,A 


t^ 


■^>:' 


>''■'  ,■'■ 


i:  • 


430 


" LOYAL  AU  MCRt)» 


do  ail  morial  nian  can  do     Yo ,  h?     1?^  ^°'  J'""".  '  »ill 
of  n,,  life-i  „o„M  be  i;»,  ihaa  Z„  ^'?  ""  «"o''  ""?«' 

brave  a'„d  Jbu7 1^^,,  *Cfc?'K'>°"  5-=  l«« 
AU  ..^e  sa„e  *o„,H,  so  ..afh'e  sa'î^taîân^»™!; 

j^S;,r5,ir  ss';'i';f<.„''i'^f»''«a„da„d 

call  iipo,iyo„_save  Eric  1°  ""'"'=«•     Terry,  I 

Hesloopedandkissedher. 

.  &ay  no  more,  mother     Wmr^^^t  * 

•aveEric."  "  mortal  nian  can  do  it,  I  «,i|| 

•pont  hère  aireadv.     C  u^'  '"°,„"ï<*   "»«  1»»  been 
«  once.    Crystalis ilL^^      '  *°  "•  ""«  Hôtel  du  LouvTe     ■ 

Xii  ?  ^- 


'i'^ 


'W  * 


I 


(■"s.*; 


"loy4L  AO  MORT» 


.  ^;i-: 


I 


431 


-       Hi  smifcd  •"^»<m  do  you  mean  to  sa.e  Eric  >  " 

savehira  mavsuccMa-w,T.S.  "''^  ^A-^l-'hat  ray  plan  to 
"  An  opiate "î-  '^  '  «""  '"'"  *"  "P"''  to-nighe." 

Sleady  his  nerves  for  »m„'  "'"^  .''"P  ''""  >"/■     To 

•-he^wil,,   SS;' 7obabi;  ^re^t^v"'",'"  î""""'^ 

must  see  that  he  doU    a«^  ■  ^        l-     ^'     ^"  ^^ct,  you 

-wme.  or  béer  and  admin?,^^  '""^"'^  '^"^^  '°  ^^"^^  ^  g'assof 

'    "Oh.Icandothat      lhi„    ;^    Al  dépends  «pon  that." 

to  the  Louvre,  ahd  perfor /yo„r  par°     In  iT.f  "^T^^^ 
I  wjll  call  to  see  how  CrvsJl  ,"/  ^t  u  u°"^  ^'^^  ''O"" 

i.npor.ance^,aJ  ^aVaXb'd-b;.-^"'"'-  °' 

'ight.  or  govirtuons^yioLCbed  ''M''r°'R^'«n  '!*'.  "■"=•   ' 
them,  and  Mr  Bovilli  ■=  rf.h  ?        ■  i-       «"""«  isamong 

baity'of  a  Unie  ran  e  ôf  Uni  ^^  "'*'"  *'""="  ""  »<'"«- 
fion  for  slambir.Xn  I  S^SL  Ï  *  ?T'''"«  P'=P«»- 
hi»  hand  heavily'on  h,"  Ser        '  ''"'"'^'''  "^  «"^  "^^ 

,       Bo«  e  swmgs  roandjwa  faces  his  interrogatbr 

the  d?nci?,'S,era  .or'^'"S„"'f'  ""''  T'^"^'  ^  -hat 
own  gho!t."  ""  "■''  """î  y™  look  likeyour 


Oûks  hi8  arm  through  the  dragoon's  and  goes, 


I 


iV 


V.l 


K 


à"- 
-3' 


^' 


M 


% 


V. 


432 


**LOYAL  AU  hORT.*' 


Without  a  t^ord,  Terry  leads  hini  away  frpm  the  glare  and 
gas-light  ghtter  of  the  thronged  boulevards" f6  some  distant 
aimly-lighted,  deserted  street.  . .     ' 

Without  a  Word  Boville  follows.  This  is  soraething  seri- 
ous,.  he  feels.  Has  the  duel  got  wind?  Dennison  and 
Dynely  are  relatives,  Boville  hazily  recollects— relatives  of 
so^e  soit  ;  he  is  not  quite  clear  about.it.  .  No  doubt  Den- 
nison I^as  corne  to  speak  of  the  duel  ;  but  why  with  that 
fade  ?    \  ^       "^ 

fBoyJlle,"  Terry  abruptly  begins,  *^Lord  DynelV  and 
Tnnce  pi  Venturini  fight  to-raorrow,  do  they  not,  and  vou 
are  Dynely*s  second  ?"  ^  , 

'^  Weluctantly— yes. .  It's  abad  business,  old  boy.  Dynely 
hasn  t  a  ghost  of  a  chance^  and  so  l've  told  him.  But  a 
wilful  man-j*-you  know  the/^roverb.  Besides,  weally,  vou 
know,  '  Mr*  Bovillçhas  a  j-qoted  objection  to  the  letter  R, 
I  aon  t  ree  how  he  is^oifig  to  get  out  of  it.  The  Prince— 
confound^^^lJUBfOukl^ud  him  as  a  coward  far  and  wide. 
and  Eric  s  nôt  tha|/  My  dear  Terry,"  they  are  passing  un' 
det  a  Street  lampât  the  moment,  and  the  light  falls  full  upon 

self?    There  w  a  bwuised  swelling  the  size  of  an  ece  be- 
tween  your  cy^."  *  ^ 


DennisonV  face  turns  crimson,  a  deep,  burning,  tinglinir 
cnmson  once  more. ,  He  pulls  his  hat  far  over  his  eyesTand 
tries  to 


"An  incident,  Boville.  Never  mind  ray  face— l've  no 
beauty  to  spoil.  l've  corne  to  talk  to  you  about  this  duel. 
At  wb^t  hour  do  they  meet  ?  " 

T  "  ^L  ^r^*  P^^P  °^  ^y*  between  haltpast  six  and  seven. 
It  won-t  do  to  be  later.  But  who  told  you  ?  De  Concressault 
or  Dynely  himself?"  . 

"  Both.  Boville,  this  meeting  must  never  take  iplace  I  " 
"  Dehghted,  l'm  shaw,  to  hear  it,"  drawled  Mr.  Boviïle, 
opening  two  very  sraall,  very  sleepy  blue  eyes  to  their  widest  • 
"  never  was  accessory  to  a  murder  in  my  life— don't  want 
to  begin  now.  But,  at  the  same  time,  how  do  you  DwoDwofle 
topweventit?"  '     fwv|/www: 


"^Yoiican  refuse  to  act  for^Ëic"^ 


i*v'- 


Vv?**At*,»iS',#  . 


e  glare  and 
me  distant, 

ething  seri- 
inison  and 
•elatives  of 
içubt  Den- 
r  with  tAai 

)yneljr  and 
t,  and  you 

y.  Dynely 
ni.  But  a 
'eally,  you 
;  letter  R, 
e  Prince — 
and  wide, 
assing  nn- 
s  full  upon 
g  to  your- 
n  egg  be- 

g,  tingline 
eyes,  and 

— l've  no 
tbis  duel. 

nd  seven. 
ncressault 

•lace  I  " 
r.  Boville, 
ir  widest  ; 
on't  want 
>wopwose 


^-^^;_4:v-H:.j:i" 


**LOYAL  AU  MORT» 


43j 


"  his^yf  ^  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  inserted  his  glass  in 
-still.  the  few  rVe  goï  I  pTonoTe^r^"'  i"  o„  family 

«usttakf  the  conséquences  ^^^â^^^^^^  '"^"P^'  ^^^ 

tationwîth  Felicia-now  he's  ?! ',„^^  ^^'l^hree  weeks' flir- 
Vfopos  des  boues  ^e  wJI  •  ^  •  *,°i'^>'  *^^  penalty.  Afi. 
io^iest.     If  ïwSe  sle  ti^^^'^P^'f  [^^"^  to-night-at  Z 

weinarf?»   '"■"""«'«•     Will  you  kindly  wepeat  your  last 

<h.  firs(,  and  I  rail  rSn  vou  to  ïfn  ^:;°  '"''  'ï''""»»  '">■" 
«o  «ee  his  Sd     *       ""  *"  "J"-  "<•  '^«»  '■>  tte  darkie» 

ance.    NoTl  S  V""  '"?  °*"  *=»'"'  "f  "y  icquaint' 

oi^o»  .^:  U:Tf,ur«„"rA'"-  '^"'''  ^'■^- »^ 


\ 


-•Si' 


t*.' 


1  % 


454 


'LOYAL  AU  MORT** 


^ 
W 


,^;- 


t.^ 


samedeadsho.  .he  prince    i  a^^ Thaven  "Ki.'^  '°* 

moLw."  '^°''  '  """  '»  ■»«'  Di  V«t„rini  ?i 

Bo^leïili  "'*  '  ''°®'^  détermination  tluu  convinced 

Inmself  ,s  not  more  obstinate  or  more  plucky   han  Dvnefv  " 
''You  must  be  awfully  fond  of  him,  1 W  old   bln 
Oad  !     I  never  heard  of  such  a  thine  in  al  mv  £     v       \ 

t'prin^  ZrS;::^.  ^^  ^^  -  -^  chan^  befo' l' 

telî'vou°rJ''i'*"''"f°™?''<'"  '«P°»'iecl.  cooUy;  -as  I 
mostTén  •-    "  '"■^  ^'"  """  '"^  '»''  '"''''  «y  o™  with 

s^pose,  now,  Dennison,  ;oS  ^p^i  VeïSinfwm 
fignt  you  instead  of  Dynely  ?"  i'p  »c x/i  v eniunm  wjli 

"I  don'rsuppose  he  would,  if  he  knew. 
tention  to  let  him  know." 
"  Ah,  how  will  you  Kelp  it  ?  " 

«  aTt^t'ÏS'î^n  ^'  ""'^'^  "^^^  '^^  Eric  in  his  lîfe ." 
kno^LicI^aTok'%trd>*"^  ^^  Concwessault 
pair  of  eyes  ?  "  ^°"  »"'°P°'*'  *°  ^««e  two 


It  is  not  my  in- 


r'i 


■•^v 


M£?.fcrîai!|àte  .--la&j 


'^'ï^ 


w— IHHlHL.-.?»W^[|| 


1 1 


t  •■ 


7'^;^?!^^^*^,^- 


**tOYAL  Ai;  MORT» 

«U  this  lîme,  wili^  fiïîSv  ?  ^  '  '"^  '■^"J'-    A»d  «hère 
Terry  reddened. 

"^^ÎÊÊ  ""  '''"^™«^'  '  ^^^-  *«*«  «-«  of 

"dIE^^^^Y"  «^^"i'^*^.  «nfeigned  amazem 
him?"  o™gg«JI    By  Jovel    And  who  will  dnïg 

«Hismother.    At  my  request." 
you  must  be  of  Eric  l  "  ^  "'      '      ^'  "^"^  ^^^^ 


you  havc  it"  "^**  **^  ^*^P  *•»«  P»e<îge.    Thei| 

«on's^Uc^^  Dj^lTâBked  you  to  meet  tfae  prince  in  her 


n 


-4 


r 


# 


«4     * 


^ 


«î' 


f. 


436 


**LOyAL  AU  MORT* 


wife  wogld  break  their  hii».     An^i  ï^  t"  "'°*«'  »»<> 

you ?"  ^  «ovuio ?    I  can  dépend  uptm 

:.8isS»^'***  "^  ''^  '  ''^"'  ^«°»;«>»'    B,t  if  you  in. 
''Idomsist     Whatisthehour?»  *  * 

close  upon  miâni/ht,  S  TS,  L  "  •"*'•  .''  "" 

"whl^'lï'En^'?"'"'"    •*«  ?»■>  W»-  mumuT.  -The» 
It  a.  quieUvïïVcMd»'^        *''*"'*'"''•    Hetoà 


,;     . 

y      ^« 


:*£*;, 


>W  iny  bene- 

fnother  and 

w  his  breath 

light  the  tall 
for  the  first 
nearer  than 


"Vi, 


■^    I  warn 
»,  Bovilie, 

0 

!»  motion- 
:•  It  was 
uid  sofUjr 

im  in  the 

r. 

le;  "and 

ail  ATtery 
the  doc-* 

.  ^^hen 

5,  Terrjr. 
Hetook 


M 


''l^"n«"'*^«^;V'»-'f^^ 


rc; 


V-'.f-4 


** LOYAL  AU  MORT.** 


437 


.  foreItfo--mavT*antnf  "°<  '"^  s^range  shyiiess,  «be- 
Shi  m^!ï^Vf°  *"  '^'^  ^  moment  and  look  at  Crvltal?'» 

S,1tebS.^ki;mvsh«lï  «^«^^"tïy  down  bythe  little 
^'  My  littli/cKcliHl^K      ^^J'  «>  «>W»  so  wbite,  so  pure. 

love,1^bXSee'^^^^^ 

Hess  to  you.  then  T  r#.«î«r!  ;►      n-     ,        ^  can  bnng  happi- 

«htfaiolUïht     Th™STk  '".'WfGreet  profile  turoed  to 
to  T^.&T^t^;:^'!^  •»  «y  •?«  >««  "ord 


'       l 


"        ^ 


f 


'  > 


Hrtnnjn»iL— 


r^  :*: 


,..?>wr; 


'Â"-Â 


\-é^-%'  -'^'^-..^  j  _•' 


r  <  >\ 


»ir 


:i' 


CHAPTERXVII. 

HOW  THK  MORNINO  BROKE. 

dent  of  Paris.  ™""e.  and  an  English  surgeon,  resi- 

.hel^e''^n''tri'eî'"  ^rJ'fJ^i?.'''  ""-»-«.•  and 
«ant  spol,  where  nnZTh.   '^   •     *  *°  *  secluded  and  dis- 

in^of  hônoïn-aStCp^JeTefor^  -ore,^.„ee.. 

.nIgraœX^^Ï;.a^.1!.-Sîr  --"»" 

.  comradeship  between  bim  and  T«^„a?^^ï'„/'"'  '""''  °' 
standmg,  and  the  settled  convicri™ÏJ7,^Z,  hf  .W^ 
mornng  that  Teirv  was  ■mi„„  .„î"^    Ç^°'"°"'"'dreajT 

:.wea.h4  Perhap^YadToSng  .o  d'':!5;  hiltetS?"^ 
also  the  unearthlv  hour  at  wW^h  k    u  /Z     ™*  forebodmgs, 
-  up.  but  most  of  aU  D?Ventuïn?«     ''^'^  *?''*'"  °"'«^<*  ^«^  l^t 
"  Wish  to  Heaven  T  S  ^  réputation  OS  a  dead  shot.    - 

but  this  isV^e*    Neviir  hear^     "  Enc  was  bad  enoqgh, 

pi-J^C^'  '"^"'^^^  ""  i«««'»^'-  "ow.  beneath  the  driiv 
"  Wc'rr  wather  ahead  uf  tiu,e,  1  think,.*  jtoyfflc  ^^3^^ 


,1 


'É¥-:  "'-'^4% 


night— it 
ien  inom- 
struggling 
tare  drove 
n  got  out. 
;eon,  resi- 

laft;  and 
I  and  dis- 

erplexed 

3u,  Den- 
band  of 
rjy  years' 
is  dreary 
liserable 
tïodings, 
d  to  get 
ad  shot.    - 
i  inkw- 
enoqgh, 
getneot 
0  be,  I 

e  driiv 


ml 


"f- 


Il  ,  ■         ^  \ 

ffoif  ras  Mosmitc  BROKB. 
^arily,  o„«,  a,  tt,ey  pa»ed  swiftiy  „ver  the  shor.,  we,^ 

Lady  Dynelv  and  aSh    ^    ï-^^  '^""®"  *  ''"^f  note  to 

would  happen  fhat  he  f-^,  T^  ^7'^^  ^'«"■^^-     ^nd  thé  worst 
q-arrel  betweén  Dî  W    ^^^^''^ly  ^^  Boville  himself.    The 

.  sort  x\.T^iZ^l^Z"'^T^^'''^^^''^'''^'^^'^^^'^y 

walked  hère  he  knew  ?h..^K    ««asures.    As  surely  as  he 
he  could.  '^"««^  that  the  p„n^e  meant  to  kill  hini-if 

Aiul^^p^o^usr^am^c^^  ^^••^^^^•"g  -ght. 

great.  rlddy,  t^ooSr  ±^^^  '^^^^^^^^  shavea  Vhis 

ment  It  dee^^edS ifn? fl  ^  ^i^^  '  ^"^'"^  *^°''"- 
ibJy-_even  Se  wi,  l/n  •    ?^°"'  between  theni  incred- 

sweUing  between  th^£?"l"!^y^'"'T'"^<J-  That  impnrpled 
applicafionsHhe  ÎouS  ïelt  t^ 'f''^%^  byjJdicious 
altogether.  His  cS^n/  ^^^  P""^^  ^"  ^^^wn,  hid  it 
exclude  the  r"i  and  ^th  îh''*'  '"™"^  "»''  "^^"«-^"y.  to 
blance  in  thei?fi 'ure  and  w  Jt' J'^"'.'/^''",^^'  ^•''  °^  '^«^'»- 

^suspicion  ofîL""r:?h^^i'k^:X'sf^^^^^^^^^^ 

second  suspect  the  exchange  "  ^^°*""°'  o""  ^'s 

ioli^U^tJZ.'^'''^'^^^     Itwasdesened.    Boville 


do 


'to^or;ïj^'.s;:^.?^^ ^"^•^V »>-^--  ^t  won. 

•nnaire  «race  for  whJ^h  k;„  k.Lur™^"^' 


1»^  j^  ïhrm  ^^^°''*"°^  boTOd^to  h»H  profotmdlv 


i   , 


.4: 


../^«fei  l'-jf;-:    -^w^s 


fe^' 


4f^.t^' 


^  '■>. 


^-»  î-'' , 


440  fTfyW  THE  MORNING  BROKE, 

very  instant  I  say  three  "  ^eaven  s  sake  fire  the 

an?'t^Ll°s"olacf  ^^^ V'^^y  his  cigar,  received  his  pistol, 

alone  Sv  w  ,S*^  ^  T^  ^"^  ^  ruddy  mustache  were 

l«mdSrf.     "««"enf»  paua^-Boville  held  oat  awhite 
•  -»^S*°*'''""^'*""'"    Then  a  pause,    "oiie*-two» 


ffiP^  tW  was  a  paisè,  brieC  tembleT  ïïe  ^Se 


^^ 

îjSJI 

s^a^ 

SaS^' 

r^» 

1^" 

l'E 

^ 

y^ 

..M 

P^ 

-^V,. 

K 

4 

r 

îd  BovilU 
lay, 

ng  neces»' 
lit  of  their 
d  to  busi' 

ed  by  hw. 

the  mist, 

throat  in 

ï}le,  stood 

if-smile  bi 

;d;  great 

in  thèse 

re  simul- 

handkcr-'^ 


^t    .V,.   .- *,v/ '^.  %. .: ,  ; i-, ,-;v\'  r- ^rfi^:^^. 


^OW  TffE  MORNING  BROKE. 


fixed  on  Terrv      Wa«-hJ    ^  oToken.     Boville's  eyes  were 
Jike  a  log  on  his  face  '  ^^"""^  half-r^nd,  and  fall 

ghastly,  theeyesclosed  andS>\^««'-.  ^^^  <^ace  was 
the  beart  a  sniall  sSam  of  Ki  î  ^'■''"''"  *«  ^-^gion  of 
through  his  clothes.  °^  '"'^^î^  ''^^  «aking  ifs  way 

thè'fSlen'iîrn''"  ^^"^ -^«ï' ^-If  almost  as  white ^  ^ 
"No—fainted,  but—" 

Heaven'ssake   Tack«iAn  c«    if^^  °*^ ''"P^^'ence.     «For 

The  doctorVored  gri^^^^^^^^^  Zl  J""''  ^"^  ^^  ^'^'"^  ?  '' 
"I  think  there  is  WrLï  w    ^-^'^ '"^^'P^'^^'on- 
young  n,an  wonTlive  irhoL'"*^^^^^  ^-'»-    Thi, 
?h!!  YT  ^"^^enJy.  and  tiuied  away 

hâve  li^ed  to  be  ninetj^  ^  this  poor  fellow  woSld 

^^^Can  he  bfe  moved  ?  »  Hubert  Boville  asked.  i„  a  stiiied  , 

bu^wo^S'i^aîtlrt  "ï^heL'r^'"-    '•'  ""^  ^«*«»  *«  ênd, 

"  To  the  Ho  el  du^  fv^e    ^His^ïï^^^i^  '^'^\^''»  ?  " 
"  Poor  lad  I    Bv  Tnn^r      *  f  «  fnends  are  there.*^ 

lost  in  prof<^sionarid"Kiot^  '  *^"''  '"  ''^^  ^^^^^  <="H 
^«nteî!S  "p?"^"^  ^^«  P^^<=*  ^d  »hc  captai»  of  Zouavet 


'^See^if 


i^aea^  Dë^Concrewaul^"  they  heaixi  W 


t. 

«il 


—  »tiS 


■>  1. 


n 


;  "i^  'w 


,»T    J^^T'VSF^-        t 


-'V    \- 


44a        :        ffOW  T»B  MORmm  BXOITS, 


Venturini  say  noachalantlv  •  »mvA^*.u    a  . 

the  ground.  ^  *'  ^^^"^  ^^*"»'  »>oth  hastUy  quitted 

by'Ste'r.:^^^^^^^^^  Le„. 

and  Lady  Dynely.  senJsaf  nZ      a^^'  feverishiy  asleep, 

lay  shll,  in  deepest,  dreauïws  Jen  ^'^f^  ,^^^ Jo{^  Eric 
hourpast.  camiess  sleep.     SafeJ  and  thip  fatal 

had^heTto^M^'aLirï^'n'^^  ^•"«^    I"  -hat  way" 
anxiously  and  faïlsoni  Vi?'^^  ^^u"*^^»  '^«^  '^as  bearinj     " 

not  -Cen.     H^  ni  IT  J'  '"^^SP^"  her,  but  she  would 

never  think  of  keepin/l^L  ^oîd  f^Ji'^  ''^^  ^*^~^«  '^«"W 
had  never  longed^fo?  âny^n^»  i^''*^-.  O^ly-as  she 
longed  for  Ten|'s  now     "^  °"^'  *'°™°«  ">  »»«•  life,  «hé 

bef^fcr^  g^<^»  W  place  by^^^^ 
sweetly-Iike  a  little  tïud  hisTinH    ï"  ?^*««^P--«>und|y, 
pOlowed  on  his  arm/a  d lacid  Ln.      ^^  ^'^P^^'O'ne  head  stU 
hf  face.     She8t(2MCLl.?kSï!''^P'°^°"»^  ''«'on 
"f  her  heart     He\^1he  "dol  of  h.^^  ^°'  «»"» 

Men.  And  but  for  Tenr  he  m  ahf  h  ,  '•"'^^  ^^^^^^^  ^ad 
injthe  rain  somewherr^^n  n?t  ^^J^"'^^^  «ut  there 
goo4  he  was,  ho^  generouî!  n^r^^*"^.*7"  "*>'^-  How 
resigned  life's  best  dfts  aShe  hX Jk"^  '"^^^  '^"'^  ^ave 
her  sake.  She  woSd  sW  h^  i°  ï'  ^«""«^brother,  for 
Ae  was.  ho.e  noble  sïe  îhou^™b  °  ^  ^"*«-«  ^^^  gratefol 
Encs,rredinhissleep-h^i,t-,^,^^^,^    3,,^, 


\ 


^*JSJ»^^%   .nf 


,;<^^È4*-=j^«-.fc,  ,"> 


■kl.l 


k-Ski.^        J      ^' 


*5k- 


:f 


V 


t  be  losinii 
him."      ■ 

ided,  with 
t,  and  the^ 
le  Prince, 
rofoundly, 
ily  quitted 


•  Seven, 
tle  Swiss 
y  asieep, 
"Jng.  In 
ofa,  Eric 
thp  fatal 

irhat  way 
'  beating 
B  of  the 
e  w-ould 
isane  as 
e  would 
-as  she 
Ue,  8b9 

îrystaPa 
oundly, 
ad  still 
rest  on 
!br  hùn 
Ks  had 
t  tbere 
How 
I  bave 
ler,  for 
ratefiil 

i  beni 


/ 

Jf&tF  THE  itORNWG  BROK&. 


\ 


443 
He 


low  to  catch  it—wa»  it  bera.  wa«  •'»  k:=  *  v  . 
tu^ed,„dspokeagain!Sa^^^  __. 

mon^:!?^'^    '^  ^•''  "^^«^•«'  ^  A.«.  I  wUl  mcet  yo,.  to- 

tbat  fatil  woi^anV  who  hid  ^  nJT''  '^'^  thoughts  were- 
Sbeeqrnedwithoût  anothe^rok  ?^^^  ^'^  ^^»'''- 

A  quarter  past     X  »r^"  •  ^"^'^  ""^^  «"*»o«  she  was. 

and  on  tle  la^nd  nfttce^d  nV7'''f "^'^  'l  ^""  '^^  ^^o»" 
face  with  Hubert  Ke^  ^^  ''^''''  ''^^  came  face  to 

wofd\'ad%tSefs"?kn'/r  '"  ;?^"^^  ^'^  "P«.  before  a 

.    «.nd,  his  face  p:^!^  e^S'  exdtef   hTIS'^'A'  ^'^^ 

"  I  was  rom.n„  .„      ^*^P^^; •       Ob,  what  is  t  ?  " 
1  wras  commg  m  searcli  of  you,  Ladv  Dvnplu  »  h«      ^i 
Tbere  wks  an  instinctive  rni.i«i=»  •     u- "  ^^"^"^y»    be  said. 
bad  not  she  in  some  w^v  senl  n.n  '•"  '^'^  courteoys  tone- 

brought  Un.  htre.     He  is  below  ta'ihe  c^  '  wm"""  ï"" 


hn^  1!.;;  ""  V'"^'"  ^°se."  ijoville  rçpeated  nmim.     tr_ 


«ï, 


ï,^' 


X 


X] 


'•r,"  •  ^ 


^^U-.JJ*.      *^\w.fe^.lf*,^„^,. 


•    <p 


I':  t\  "  V 


J^r' 


i-a 


il   . 


444  irâfP  TUE  MORNWG  BROICB, 


•'~.i.-'    i. 


:k 


recognized  as  her  own.  '  "  *  '^''"'^  "*^  «"«  '^0"1<Î  hâve      . 

^*^°' "«y  ïady  ;  not  yet" 

«once,  f„  ,ÎS  Sm*'  °'"^  «»«i»g fomard.  ««once- 
,*er'Ôr"a^'^;!i^S^j^ï^  'o  prépare  i,™«,        = 

«ghtho„„     ^=J^'Tero^-Ter„U,„„i„^^^g^^    . 

rio»,  «ouS'^/Mi'llf  Bovine  wi,hrealc„„\ 
away.»  '  ™  Slastly  horror  of  her  &ce,    "coom 

Sbe  tmned  lo  him. 

«0.  IZ.^'^  ""•"  '"^  "'^»P«™1.    ..  Yo»  ,„H  ,«  he  wa. 

-find  the  bail.    TheSnt  i^  «  "'""i"  "•'  «°"«  '»  «^'o 
reture."  moment  the  opération  is  over  yoo  «haU 

.  ^^''P.    .<«  ,h..p««,,  ..„  ^  „,  .^  ,_  ^  ^ 


I^^-iif^iË;^  >i 


"**4  -^35». 


w 


^.^ 

V 


•"«'  .-^Myff 


to  atve 

y-" 


nie  life.  ^  / 

once«— 

itwith        " 
îd  her 
dy  the 


yji  * 


'V 


/:"*"'f^'" 


1"*    7 


/rair  7!aB  morning  bhojte. 


AAS 


^  this—for  my  son's  sake  I  seot 
■*Hr-who  hâve  H^illed  him.     Ob. 
''*'>  keep  his  Word." 

ler  face  hidden  in  her  hànds. 

'ipg— she  only  spoke  the 

dislilae  to  scepes,  and  so 


■on's  iake,'  I  made  Te 
hîhî  to  his  death.     I 
Heaven  (  this  is  howj 

She  feil  down  upon^ 
He  could  say  nothl 
truth.     He  had  a  mi 
lefther.  1-,.     - 

He  returned  to  the  chlîibe'r  he  had  quftted.    The  suiveon 
rose  at  his  entrance  from  his  work       ^"'^     ^  "®  sutgeon 

"Well?"  Boville  asked. 

,   "^k*f  n"°u  ^""^"^^^  *^  ^""«t»  and  he  is  dying.    You  ma* 

as  welt  tell  them  so.     Hé  will  be  a  dead  man  in^an  hoïr  "  ^ 

«  Poor  klïow  l  "     Hubert  Boville  stood  witb  foldeïï;™». 

an  expression  ofbitter  regret  on  bis  face,  look  ng  down  ÛS 


mm 


V 


.  /-"/ 


^ 


was 

you 

Y  to 
haU 

>Qk 


W^ 


?• 


^^Bv 


i.« 


,v^ 


'à.'ê..:7i\'jé1^^^.iM 


i^ 


C* 


GHAPTER  XVIII. 

» 

r  "WHILE    rr  WAS   YET   DAY.  '  » 

servants  of  thel^iJl      ZfJ^u  *™î  ^'^°'»  *«  whispenng 
asked  for  Mr.  Cme  and  MrS,Tlf7"^  terroréhe  had 
told  the  whole  truth  '  S  llS^H  "^  *'^''f*''"«  ^«"^^rd  and  , 
of  the  past  for  Lady  dSI^H  h"**^!!^^"  ^''^  «^<^rifiœî 
Itfe     Surely  he  hai^pXhl^ebt        """^  ^'^^^"^  "P  »^« 

cal.'"  ^^rT:^^XL^l^:Stt^^^  straoge,;n,ournfuI 

ï^le  facej,  but  still  more  U?  the  „inl'  ^f**"^?  °°  ^^^  '^««'. 
«f  h^manner.  ^  ""^  unnatural  quiet  and  grmity 

f  Ma^  ïg^inXruî^S^^.^'^^  fi-  minutes.» 
wihbevery  quiet"  *^  *^^t*^«*^  "  ^  wiH  not  disturb  him.    I 

hâte  breaking  things  to  pec^^i:;"      ^  ^"''  ^"^  ^«"•««»*'-  ?  I 

4aTfV±^eS:,;^°^Tirr«-''' 

"  Hav,.  ««.,        J'^raaiîs.     Certamiy  not  more  " 

*e  bed.  °A7f^'*r.si"LH'''T'!''"-  s*«b«»o;. 


.■n 


ti 


11 


^♦■i 


,«>•' 
*»*' 


I^Ë>^$^'^'4:-iSi&44MË^     H«<  Lh'l^  ^1v  >..'j^«î^-^{,%~>  " 


li  ■«->&' 


^: 


!*4<^;* 


r 


tFff/LÉ  tr  fVAS   VET  DAV.^ 


447 


«  Does  he  suffer  ?  "  she  whispered  to  the  doctor  acrogs  the 
bed. 

;"Verjrlittle,.ifany.  The  hemoirhage  is  internai.  There 
18  faintness,  but  no  pain." 

The  low  whisper  reached  lïiin.~^e  opened  his  eyes,  and 
a  smile  of  récognition  carae  over  his  face.        x 

«  France  I  "  he  gaid,  faintly.  ,         -^ 

u  "^®f'  J*'"y'"  Then  aU  at  once  a  great  choking  seized 
ner  and  she  could  say  no  more. 

^  î,"  P?"''  ^'"  ^^  ^^^  st»"  ùântly,  smiling,  «it  will— be— 
ail  nght."- 

.  "  Y^*'  î*«"  °^^  ^ellow,  I  think  it  will."    She  stooped  down 

,    with  infinité  pity  and  tendemess  and  kissed  him.     **  Yon 

•you  are  going,  Terry— do  you  know  it  ?  " 
•     •''Yes.     It's  ail  right,  France.     Don't  cry  so.    lesawfully 
good  of  you  to  come." 

His  strength  seemed  to  rally  for  a  moment    He  looked 
anxiousiy  around. 
'"  Where  ara  I  ?    This  isn't  my  room." 
^^"  Don't  make  him  talk  too  ,much,"    thè  doctor  said. 
"  Hère,  su-,  dnnk  this." 

He  swaUowed  the  spoonful  of  liquid  and  still  watched 
France  with  anxious  eyes. 

"  You  are  in  one  of  Ëric's  rooms."  ^ 

«  Eric,"  his  eyes  lighted,  "  where  is  Eric  ?  " 

"  Asleep.    WouW  you  like  to  fee  him  ?" 

The  light  faded  from  his  face.  Ali  at  once  he  recalled 
the  hvid  bruise  between  his  eyes,  and  averted  it  even  in  that 
hotir. 

"  He—might  not— care  to  come,"  he  said  with  difficulty. 
"How  is— Crystal?"  ' 

•*  Crystal  is  recovering.  Oh  I  don't  think  of  her,  of  him, 
of  any  one,  dear  old  Terry,  but  yourselt  We  hâve  sent  for 
à  clergyman.  He  will  be  hère  in  a  moment.  You  will  sec 
inm?" 

He  nodded  assent.  ' 
,      "  Where  îh  the  roadre  ?  "  he  asked. 

"ïn  *he  neyt  rpom— broken-Jiearted Shall  I  gp  foi 


■    l'&Vt^ 


"rh- 


•  il' 


%:- 


f''    -Ûr    J 


-Wf^ 


>'f*V.-L' 


■^\  ÎV"»'*  M 


::j. 
^ 


:.^iA^d 


■î*v" 


M' 


^^.   S'^'^^'î  ^j'a^^'î"  aH'"'^-)* 


44«  ^         •'  frmzn  ir  was  yet  day.- 


.j>- 
•.*^-. 


"Poor  niotherl     Ye»." 

bm.  «ruck  him  f„U  i„  Z^    1?5J"'  "'«'">  En^track 

yoo  ;  tell  him  ail.»  ""  "P  ^^^  J  ««<*  him  with 

She  ran  frontMhe  room,  and  into  EnV.      i*  * 

ng  and  muttering  restlesslv  nU  .h  -  ?®  '^  »»w. 
losojts  effecL  She  «ekS  h^^  k  I  ^^P'***  beginning  (o 
roughiy.  '^''*'  "^"^  *»"»  by  the  arm  and  fhook  hiw 

-Awakc,Eric|»ri»ecried;  ->wak«>to^. 


iy 


:  £*,.  .' 


SÊlî*:•AJî»i.f^ç>.  ".-''i.jî 


...■Si 


mi 


w 


u"  V^^,|;''*^ '*y^.'*  t"<|^>-^',"i|.JrVy'^y.*'y4^^^i,'-'_,ij-/   W'5"^^ 


44^ 


**WHILE  IT  IVAS  VET  DAY§ 

He  opened  his  eyes  imn^pdiately  and  stared  iip  at  her  in 
sdazed  way. 

«What's  the  matter,  mother?    HÉre  you  gone  mad? 

He  half  rose  on  his  elbow  with  a  look  of  aêrm. 
"  Nôver  mind  Crystal— wake  up  V' 
"  I  Aovtf  woke  up.  Whaf  s  the  matter  with  you  ?  What's 
the  hour?"  Then,  Mke*  lightning,  memory  rushéd  upon 
him  ;  his  face  flushed,  turned  pale.  He  puUed  oui  his 
watch  and  looked  at  the.ttme.  A  quarter  of  nine.  "  Great 
Heaven  I  "  he  exclaimed,  aid  fell  back  among  the  pillows. 

"Ay!"  his  mother  cried,  ||i|terly,  "look  at  the  hour. 
i  he  tune  for  the  duel  is  past,  is  it  not  ?  And  the  duel  haa 
been  fought,  and  yôur  honor  saved.  Oh,  my  heart  1  such 
honor.  You  are  safe  hère,  an4  he  lies  dying  there— for 
you.    Your  ovn  brother,  Eric— your  elder  brother  I  " 

He  sat  and  stared  at  her,  thinking  she  had  gone  mad. 
quite  speechless.  ' 

"No,"  she  said,  "I  hâve  not  lost  giy  sensés,  though  you 
look  as  if  you  thought  it  The  duel  has  been  fought  : 
r«riy  took  your  place,  and  he  Ues  âying  in  yonder  roonf  " 
now,  for  you,  and  for  me,  and  for  Crystal—the  friend  whom 
you  struck  last  niçht— the  broïherwhose  bi#lbright  you  hâve 
usurped  ail  your  hfe  i  "  »     -^ 

Still  he  sat  speechless— stiU  h«  was  staring  at  her,  not 
comprehendmg  a  Word.     ♦  "*♦ 

M"Oh,youdon't  understand— you  won't  understand,  ând 
time  18  fljrmg  and  every  moment  is  predous.  I  must  go  to 
lum.  Eric,  rouse  yourself  1  try  to  comprehenè  what  I  am 
saying.  Teny  met  Prince  Di  Venturini  this  moming,  and 
wught  your  duel  for  ^w.  Imadehiml  1  nearly  went  mad 
J^n  he  came  to  me  last  night  and  told  meof  Ciystal's  acci- 
dent first,  and  of  your  challenge.  I  don't  know  what  I  said. 
I  don  t  know  what  I  did,  only  I  made  hiro  promise  to  save 
rou,  and  he  has,  he  has I" 

He  1^  beginning  to  understand  now.    His  face  turned 
white,  his  lips  set  themselvca. 


,'^;«-a 


t  ^2Txh 


-x 


^G»on,"  be^8aid,H»peaki«g  for-ihefeirB^ 


-"î^  i 


.^  **?  »»^  you  an  opiate  and  you  slept  whUc  He  went  ont 


t   È'^ 


M. 


^ 


Ê^-i 


i%.     ; 


:s^ 


4' 


X*^' 

> 
I 


1^ 


#V  -. 


450  imr/ts  jT  WAs  ysr  a<k« 


and  met  the  prince  In  vout-nli...     u   •  a  .  " 

Eric,  y«,r  own  brolfc "  "" '  ""^  '«'»  J"™' broftoî 

b™;£. ''""""    »""^-.    "«  you  n„d?    ,    fc„.-„„ 

wha.  n,ap„er  of  maS  his  f«heX  ijle"  '  ""  **'"  ■"  "■"=« 
Oh,  t.  asT„-^L*'"l?roUr  °"™''  )""  <■«■•«•»  son, 

I?3Z«r„''X°rn'ri!^-?^->    .  And 


<( 


He  fell  heavily  bâck  on  W  V^scount  Dynely  I  "        •^™ . 

wantedtogodowntoTUoSf?^^^-^"«"sï-    Wheiîhe 

Ignorance.    I  kept^S^  JS'  Jh T'''  T  '^*^''»  ««  m 
Jhoughi  he  would  hav^oSil  Ji  '•'!,  *^ ~*'^  ^<î'     K 
That  wa3  why  I  wanîed  you  S  ^ci  îî^  ^'*""5?  ^^^^  own.  ^ 
rester  and  her  fortune     But  ?.  ^  *"*  '"*"y  ^«"ce  For- 
tule  weaith    for  Cio.f'^,^^  SJ^e*?'  *^^  ^^^-•«^' 

ca.n;2!sh"eta?aîrherd  S5M-?'l  ^  j""  *-^o«  W' 
niight  bave  taken  from  î^i  tfcd  f?r^  ''^'  ^'T  **''"•  He  ' 
La^t  night  he  came  toC  bllf  ^Jï  î°!^  did  «OL 


3  V 


V 


iis,.^U^«v*rf4"    r'*i  ,s«î*f-%-«it...>«'  >"Sii»  ^'""^^^V'.tj'J!' 


S'^ 


*  ' 


/?? 


0.1 


'h' 


451 


^'■. 


kissed  the  brutal  mark.on  his  poor  face  last  «nriit    Thïj 
morning  he  went  out  in  your.place  and  met  the  lîrince  and 
'  j;as  shor  dDwn  as^w  would  hâve  been^  And  he  lies  dyinÊ 
„  there  ;  he  wiU  be  dead  before  the  hourÇnds.'^  ■ 

i      P^  P- *  P^'i""  ^^^^  ^'"^  a  fierce  gesture  to  stop  her. 
*  n  ^rP^^"^  '    "^  ^'^'  hoarsely.     «  Oh,  God^j  I  cannât  bear 

She  obeyed-a  rain  of  tears  pouring  over  her  face.     He 
lay  mute-quivénng  through  ail  his  strong  young  frame. 

Leave  me,"  he  said,  m  the  same  hoarse  vdice,  "  I  wânt 
to  be  ajone. 

She  tùrned  to  go,  but  on  the  threshold  she  stopped. 
;;  You  wiU  corne,  Eric,"  she  said,  «when  we'send?" 

She  went.     France  stood  waiting  for  her  at  the  door. 
Co    e  "  ^°^  ^^"  ^*'°'      ^f  "  ^^'^^^S  ^^ 

_She  led  her  into  that  other  rooai.    The  clerevman's  last 

PkM^'^  """^Ï'.  ^°  **^  ^^'  ^y^ng  among  the  pillows. 
the  cold  dews  of  death  already  stood.  She  fell  down  on  her 
knees  by  the  bed  and  took  the  dying  head  in  her'ai 
He  opened  his  heavy  eyes  and  smUed— a  smile  of 
content.     «  Mf/Aer,"  hft.^^  and  lay  stiU.  -«r 

J'w'  ""^  '^^"1?'  mptérryl"  she  cried  out,  "forgive 
me  before  you  goi"    .        '  ,» 

famtly.  but  clearly     "You  we^q^gsrays  good  to  me.    I 
loved  ypu  ail  my J,fe,  moAer.  ^'t  cr^-ifs  httter  .0  , 
linc^«  eyes  looked  wisefully  toward  the  door.  BliEhed^ 
weanlyr  " Eric  won't  corne  ?"  »  "Wg"»» 

i«l!fj'**"j^'"*^   She  bent  downand  kiis^  him,  and 
in  that  kiss  whispered  :  "  I  hâve  told  him  ail." 
.  ^*  Ail  I  "    He  looked  np  at  her  quickly,  almost  in  reprooC  ' 
**  That  was  wrong.'/  .  " 

"Itwasright.  I  should  hâve  told  him  long  aaa    Oh 
niy  boy  !  yay  own  T^rry  1  how  good  you  are."  • 

He'»mayl--Tenry'8  own  amused  smae.    Theh  h..  ^^^,^^1 
-*m  cy  w  wéMOrraâ  lây  atin  àgàli. 


"1^ 


-•         ^ 


ili^^C 


.«^  ' 


£^  J.^ArV       ^Li.):» 


■  <  «<.<<l 


uu 


^M  fc«f3 


-,       ^''  \  '     '     '     ^    mt  *•   tÊi' 


S?    'T*  "  'ookinno     Th.  J  î"'"*'  •""="  Eric. 


4         V 


'   S!-   '^'T»  ^''^ookinHo     ThîVÎÏ*''^''^*'  '^neJt  Eric. 

D^t^^  eyesopened,  anC  he  l«,kcd  up  '  ^'  ^ 

Arough  h!  î'teai/  «^^P  "^^"^  ^  "  «ï»*  coald 

i«d  ».«f  '^'»«P«'ed.  and  Erib  Ufted  W.  . 
*     ^'^1  ^''*»«'-"7-*w5fcr,"  he 


.'\ 


m' 


è 


•*  fFmZE  TT  WAS  YRT  DAY.» 


\,fis. 


fl»t  Eric  had  to  lay  his  ear  to  his  lips  to  catch  the  wordà  : 

*^^ood— to—Crystal."  .         ' 

_^  closed  them  once  more,  exhausted,  and  lay  still. 

Ihere  was  a  sudden,  short  convulsion  of  the  limbs— tf 

passed,  and  he  was  quief.    So  he  had  lain  for  fullvBve  min- 

uteç,  hw  head  resting.a  doU  weight  in  Lady  ©yneVs  aitns. 

-A  Sharp  tenror  seized  her— she  looked  helplessly  around. 

♦*  Is  hc  asieep  ?  "  she  piteously  asked. 

V  Hubert  Bqvilte  came  fo^rward  and  bent  over  him.    He 

laid  his  hand  on  his  heart  for  a  moment,  and  lîstened  for  hii 

hrçathing.    Then  he  stood  up.  \  . 

^^    "  Not  MÎeép,"  hç^said,  veiy  gcntly  ;  «*  deti" 


="%«Jni.ifc 


.r-\ 


\.^ 


.  -s 

'V 


w 

-.^A 


/ 


¥ 


'■'«^. 


-?♦■ 
.,'© 


♦     "^-te 


û^ 


J 


^y  'K^f^r: 


^-^y  '-}■ 


CHAPTER  XIX 

"ftOSTTENKBR^  LU*.» 


|N  Galignanis  Messenger^  of  n«.»f  ^-     .1.       / 

o'clock,  a  meeting  toot  2!      ?^J"u™'"«'  »*  seven 
.   loghe  bètween  a  certain  olnS?.   *^  *''*'  '"^**  ^'^  de  Bou. 

gpon  guards.     His  excel  encv  fL  ^^  ^'^"*^"*"' «^  <Jra. 

combatant  by  the.Hon  H  ttZ"^,^^®"*''^^^"^  tbeother 

rfuel  was  fqught  with  pistoîs    1 1    .^  '"   '^'^  case.^fhe 
fire  proved  felàl-the  CLman  K  •  ^°  ^u^^"'-     '^'^^  fi-'sl 

regret  we  announce  to  «ur  read?^]^-"~i;  ??  ^''"^  ^^?I^»' 
most  mysterious  death  of  theSSnïlf^'^""^  sudden  >ind 
and  versatility  hâve  crowJed  7h!T^  '^^^^^^  ^^^o^^  be^uty 

de%htful  réceptions    for  w^c^'^  .'i'*'  «*"l°"^°fAhe 
famed^nd appeared in  her  Wetelfent  Zlw^^^  J"^">' 
She  retire^  about  midnight,  stiH  seemS'J'!î'*\^f»d  «Pi'^s.     ,. 
the  morning  her  p,aïd  found  herSl?  ï^^f  ?  ^^''^"-  ''»>  «^ 
of  foui  Play is  at  work,  and a^s^mni^     ^ îf^   Suspicion: 
çover  the  fckuse  of  this  death^^h  êrjîf  ïï  ""'"  P'"*^^^  dis- 
lans  will  deeply  regret  ^  "»»'<*  ail  theatfe-going  Pans- 


11 ..  H.,  rlo..  „f  .„  ^^^  j^;^^  ^-^heo^'b^ 


\ 


'*.,/  .^  ^^  ..  .hU^*''\ 


■«ÎM- 


'  '^'W^  M"** 


i    ^ 


-'^W^^^%'  'W-'i%fr^^^^f 


•  --> 


>:? 


^Ir 


Mack  sombre  eves  anH  ,  >?ÏX    r  V^,^  ^^'"'^  dan,sel,  w  th 

»uni  no,  grandmanima— I  never  m-n»  hV^^     u        •. 
you."  7       r^  Mcvcr  grow  tired  when  w^th 

"  My  dear,  howr  mournful  you  look  thoimh      n^ 

givèn  your  father     Love  hi™  r^      "Je  unhappmess  I  hâve 

•£,  And  h.  is  fappy„t;!!who  woomÎ^^T-  Ï  8°°"  "^ 
«toma  Franc»?    And  t*  think  Z^ï     ^'  ■">??/  »'* 

«trMgeitïïSw.'  °"°'**''™'«-»»idsl    Ho»    f 


A»-,"«hed 


-"What  made 


â?^^"Mi"1  *"e  gréât  eyei 
Did  th^' 


^  .aréadfuU    Ohlli^nâer^ha^  it  was  î 


Jate;  "it  wagr 


ier  die  like  thatV 


tf^nd  out  ?  " 


>'^***<lMp^ 


■Tu 


'M 


ji.vl'ôEviï  \ 


> 

# 


'i 


■♦' 


"> 


j>?- 

^''^ 
^^. 


y1 


a.»> 


tr* 


■ti 


is^ 


^^s^^mÊKÊ^ 


Lmr, 


H  *«"■ 


r  was  a  terrible  fate  "  iii  oh  ^^^  ''"^*'  ^^^-  ^oor  soûl  l  it 
;^-  not  tell  tSë  dLgSer  shi  was  ll^?^"  !f  ^S  ^>'^  "'  «hc  m 
1  byherself,   mafd,   or  whom  *^«  ^  '     P°»«°°«d-whet|,cr 

-in  Naples,  W^e  D? VenZS  '"?P'^>°?»  «^  ^he  truth,  but 

Fiance  looks  dow„  at  AeV^r  Sow  S'"  -^"u  "«"^ords. . 

-^ve^ia^Sen"'""^'"^^^^^^  "and 

His  face  clou<Js  for  a  second.  " 

lace  "  thiSiS  S«f^        ^*°  *^^  s™set  1  ghts  bis  wave 
you  knawy  *^        cnanneL    Y/ou  alw-ays  are  sea-sick, 

"Yes,  I  k^    she  sm.mbacî^  fo^»  „.^,„,   .     > 
grows  gr^ve.'   -«^Don't  Jet  us^^^vJ?   f^  «oiïfent,  Ae»^ 

|>l^e,  rt»y  own  France." 
'^'^^se  light  is  iSidiog  from  the 
,-  --^^ many pâfeted Windows of 
Qut:  ' :->*'*'»«  ^o"«»C4tïn  the  panes,  shines 

foeure^there^Suneve^^œ  H 

^  ti>  npr  dower  house  Lady  Dj^nely.&e  eldir.  L 


»»««ii  lo  »eç,  j-ans  naore. 

again  m  this  life  as  ïhavci 
**We  will ço iÀïétevei  ^ 
xnere  is  sileqce  agail 

"  SST^*'^*^'  Ws/all  on4 
>^.       ™"  manor,  the  motto  « 


ofl 


''é^ 


-i  "  ïjaKir'^»'^'»''  "  ^  "*^^'    *  ***^  '  ■  ••'  "V*''"''***'  «»V'?*«ï'-*'';^'»  vÇ^fe*^^^KS 
,        TV  '  ''  la     -     '-  .        *  *ly'^ 

'  .  i  '/  ■■■'   'S„ 

'    .  •      ■  -        ■•-•,■.•• 

■  SS  ÎTp^'^^.rff'  '^  *•  ""«^  »"^'  ^* 

•I.î."i?°"  S^  "^  '"""''  f2P  *'*»''  love  fra-my  son  sDoiW 

adLt^r'iïir!."'™"''  '''*?.«°«l  to  .dl    No  one  ca» 
«couse  her  of  sdashpess  now.    Her  son  is  a  beun-  ^,u^ 

oS^nâ!  ^  ï°"^  T?.*"  «r*'  vault'ofte^yïdys^S 
opened,  and  he  yras  laid  to  sleep  with  them     Pennlî-««^ 

^o^M^^Jiore  as  they  read  the  inscription  XVe  Wm! 
nW>  of  plain  gray  granité,  with  gold  lettering,  and"i 

^ACRSO  Tp  THB  /ImioAt 

,.f         TERENCE   DENNISON, 
f       WHo  <jaVb  his  ijra  to  savb  anothkr»s, 
rsBRVJotr  29TH,  18—,. 

M^^s,^'^^V°^y  ^"**'  Ciystaî  Visc^antew  Dynèîv  slt» 
^e,  fair  and  ;jweet,  and  youtWW,  as  this  Sie  W 1-? 

for  Teny  Dennison  to  corne  and  ask  her  to  be  £s  ÎSS^ 
Sh  »  ^°°?.  dressed  for  dinner  in  the  cri^  white  mSin 
Md  bteenbbpns  that  become  her  chflS^flSSL  S», 
«^which  her  husband  best  likes  to  serSer  ^^  And 
rfthat  husband  fencied  hodden-pray  or  sadcâoth  Sd  ash^ 
uSJ?. !.?^  ^u?  exceptional  w.%  wnnM  ..^^^  hnrc  dS 
«theiAiiay.  She  is  waiting  for  him  now  tocometodS^ 
listenmg  with^ove's  in,patif«çefor  tbe  &st8<?unTonhe  fïJ'^ 


>* 


V 

w      I 


t 

,^5?' 


jW^+. 


•i/VJT'  TENBBRAt,  LOXJ» 


step,  the  first  note  of  the  gajr  whistlç  she  knows  lo  weU.  Fof 
o^**  am  ^^  °"*^  "°''*^'  ^°°''  ^'y*'*^  *"d  Eric  is  ail  her 

She,know8thewhoIestoiy.    Week»  aftel-,  vhen  strength  I 
eyes,  ntungsidc  by  «de,  h»  armaround  her,  Erichadtold  I 

ÎÏT^K,  ^***^'"f  ^^  *»^^°  '^•^^'^°'  a°d  she  learned  at  lait  ^ 
htfw  noble  was  the  heart  she  had  refused,  the  heart  stUM  1 

,  *»«';  husband  ^ildiy,  an^  strained  hirn  to  hen         "™*W>»« 
*  Ion!"  '  shecriedout;  «  to  think  it  might  hâve  beén 

-,J?Î'  "^J^^  t"T"  ^*"*  '    "^^  *«  ^eptJ^s  of  her  soûl  «hé 
wondered  at  the  brave  generosity  of  hini  who  was  gonc  -^  " 
her  mmost  he^rt  she  bowed  down  in  révérence.    She  ifeS 

^l^\  ^^  r^  *"^  passionate  tears-dear,  brave,  lioble 
1  emr  1  her  playmate  and  fnend,— but  her  first  tbought  wa« 

n?«^w'7/K°i*'^'?.''*''?P°^^  °"«  of  unutterable/ glaï 
ness  thàt  it  had  not  been  he.  She  qiught  her  breatt  idSi 
the  horror  of  it,  an.dhwhile  her.tears  fell  îor  Terry,  slie  held 

Iittle  heart,  and  cned,  again  and  again  :  ' 

bcé'n^'^   /"*^""^'  mydarlinglto  think  it  miglit  hâve 

^  AsEnc  never  had,  neverwpuld,  she  knew  Terry  had  loved 
her.  She  was  grateful  to  him  ;  she  strewed  his  coffin  with 
flowers;  she  wept  her  pretty  eyes  red,  again  aod  again. 

^'  A  i''^^^'^^  morning  under  the  dripping  trees  of  the 
BOIS  de  Boulogne  without  aprayerof  trembling  thankfutaea» 
that  it  was  he  who  was  taken,  and  not  her  beloved.  — 

^  And  Enc  is  yery  good  to  her,  veiy  gentle  and  tendw  wiài 
her,  veiy  afiectionate,  after  the  manner  of  men  and  hÛsbands. 
And  she  <toes  not  ask  npuch  ;  she  gives  so  greatly  that  a  smaU 
wtum  suffices.  That  smaU  return,  let  roe  say,  the  Rig^ 
Honorable  Lord  Viscount  Dynely  gives  wiUingly  and  fSS 
ri^.^yV_f^  CtystalMs  happy-^nd  the  c^in  falk  f^ 


■V  ( . 


TOWr^^^ratyF^^Wg^lÔWmp^rw^^ange  ^ 


^ 


!t  ,JI».,I^     ,  ^ 


ell.  Fof 

ail  her ,/  y, 


strength  , 
im  blue  i 
jadtold  i 
iatlatt 
tstille^  i 

MabMafit, 


*  1  V'..^ 


re  b^isn 

oul$b6 
•ne:  to 
le  wept 
,-^oble 
îht  wa# 
^glad- 
p,  with 
>e  held 
istoned 

:  hâve 

[  loved 
n  with 
again, 
lought 
of  the 
'ul0e«i 

)ands. 
sro^m 

RigM 
froDi 


se  h» 


m- 


i^r'^^^ 


••-'^7'  TENEBRM,  LC/X»  ^ 

•  w 

"potr,  nor  the  Êthion  hîs  skiti  '  «o  ».-»  r  t  ^  \<f\ 
•tamp  do  not  change  &eirÏÏ;,rr  lS.H  h  ^ -n  .?^"'y«^ 
^waj-«^Teny  Dennison^  de^Hace^ould  n^  f  *°  *".** 
•jnive  to  haunt  him  îf  he  were  «S^Lî-  i  "**  ^""^^  t'^» 
*Us  li«ht,  for  in  a  i^^vi-^n^^^^T^''''}'''^^^^  *<'°'  ^t" 
of  his  little  wtfe  .  Sfulir^'J?  -f^  T!^^^**'■*^  "  fond- 
more  or  essVdmirÏÏSn  iïï^;'''?  ^  ?<î«l»ty  that  will  include 
he  meetsTlit  frèm^^  or  fSS.^°'  '""^  pretty  womaa 
be  Derfe^fîv  iTo^r»;  r'y^^'.or  Frarice,  or,  one  of  us  ail  to 

^XW^'^tZ'l'^^'^' ^""^  bomof'wotaï 
that  ever  wS  £e  hl^t  ^  **  happiness  tbat  is  hers,  aU 


!      - 


1  -*•     . 

m 

:.  A 

*«.»_  ^    _ij*,(»--* 


aï  5i-^ 


IH 


4", 


^ 


kàfef-;- 


■l^-. 


1878. 


1878. 


i 


\ 


♦       »  ■ 


NEW   BOOkSi 

AND  NEW  EDITIONS, 

n      TTT  «BCKNTLY  ISSUED  BY 

t*^  W.  Cakleton  &  Co,  Publishers 

t^v-  ■<  ^^*^°  ^^ar«.  A^  York.  '     w 

^W  book.i„  diU  lis.  (unless  o.he.wis^rc'br      ^  ^"^     '"''"'^''''^^^^^ 


n?"'^. '.•,«o"'^-J„.Tf-k- 


•*'<» 


A  ,   "«"aow  Brdok 
■^IDora  Deane.. 

Coujsin  Maude. 

Jtarian  Gre\.  . 

tdithLyie..  ... 

Afon« .*■  _ 

Hidden  Rath'.'.'.".' 
Mo8s  Si4é  . 
Nemcsia.,.' 
MIriwn;.;;.   '■•■ 
AtJU,t:.,,.  •  ■• 

felen  QardncftV.-. 
n»  M  Steel.  ^ 


•est  and  Snn.hin"*^  ^\, 

•h  Orphans..    ,     *'  5° 

teead«on  the  Hill.idè  !  !  ! .' '    J  ," 

Rivera.  .•.•.     ..  5° 

w  Brdok...,*' •    '  /° 


(New). 


So 
>  5o 

»  so 

•  so 


Darkness  and  Daylièht 
Hugh  WorthingtonrJ- 
Cameron  Pride  *' 
Rose  Mather.. 

Edna  BrWniidP 

WestLawn  /^  •'      .50 

Martoa  Harlanrs  Woi-wr        »  i° 

»'  5° Tg^n'ybîîik"'^'- 

'.    ••    •  50    Ruby.  Hu.band. 

•JPheinJ.'a  Temptat  on    ■ 
The  Empty  Heart 


>  so 
I  50 
I  50 


•»  «0 
.    iV 

•    »  So 
I  50 

>  SO 
SO 


W 


^'-'l^'Tr  ^^t"      ■* 


f  ^s'  ■  ■ 


i!*. 


G.   ^  CAKLETOI/  &*  CO.' S  PUBLICATIONS. 


A  Terrible  Sacret ,  „     A  Mad  Marriage 

rffi?' îJ^S^'^^fv.-  •: :  »  75     OneNighfslîryatery.. 


•rient  aad  True-  (New) 


•»  75 

Nighf  8  nfyatery.  !  !  !  !  "  !  '.  !  '.  i  î  « 
Kate  Danton....... ,  ]\ 


r      ./T..         s   ..      ?)^'   Miohélet's    Works. 

Lov.  (L'Aniour)-Tran5Î^on^...»,  g  I  Wom.n(LaFemme)-THu.sUtion«i  50 

Kutledee ,„     The  Sutherlands 4,  «, 

St.  Philip'a *;  1^ 

Round  Hearts,  for  Chlldren  ....  !  i  eo 

A  Perfect  Adonia-4(New) i  |o 

Novell. 


ag«. . 
Wa 


I  50 


Frank  Warrington i  50 

Louie's  Last  Term,  etc 150 

Richard  Vandermarck i  50 

Dr.  .Antonio— By  Ruffini **Ji^? 

Widow  Goldsmith'i  lîlS^er^i,  Smift's 

ChrisandOtho val 

Ten  Old  Maids ....""  17I 

His  Young  Wife— (New) i  75 

Les  Miserables^In  English «a  5<f 

CaptAin 

The  Scalp  Hunters .'...  fli  .;o 

•^he  Rifle  Rangera i  eo 

\eWarTraiI... i  L 

Wood  Rangea i  ,  50 

e  Wild  Huntress 1  50 

Complète  Comic  Writinga— With  "^"* 


Béatrice Cenci—ByGuerrazri...;  gi  u 
Mii'«„Novel«.  •    ^ 

ThèWidower A,  „ 

The  Married  Belle ^      ,„ 

Courting  and  Farming .....jt  7I 

Hngo.  -"^ 

Le»   Misérables— In  Spanish. ««00 

Mayne    Reid. 

The  WhiteChief..... «i  m 

The  Tiger  Hanter i  ^ 

The  Hunter'k  Feast ,  \o 

Wild  Life .  \  ^ 

Osceola,  the  $eminole 
Ward.. 

fa  00 


i.50 


iography,  Portrait<  and  50  Illustrations 
True  to  the  Lant      ^'  ®'    *^P'*    Select    Storiefe. 

ThëVt^pS-îSlcioud:::::::--.*;^:  ^..^°."?.îr°?»'.A'î"_«' •« 

How  Couid  He  Heit  It  ? i  50 

Child's  History  of  Ertgland-cfrfetSfs  Neîr"^&/  Edition."    Illustrated . «i 
Paper    Covers,    60  Ceftta-Cloth,'<  •l.OO. 


So 


l've  Been  Thinking '      lœ 

To  Love  and  to  be  Loved 1  |o 


"5 


Tom's  Wife— By  G.  D.  Tallman 

That  Comic  Primer— By  Frank  Bellew. 

ThatAwful  Boy 

That  Bridget  of  Ours 

Dur  Artist  In  Cuba,  etc.  G.  W.  Carleton. 
Why  Wife  and  I  Quarreled 


Solomon  Isaacs— By  B.  L.  Faijeon.... 

That  Morrid  Qirl 

Me— Jutjr  and  Augiist.  By  Mrs.  S.  C.  Coé. 

Heand  I— Sarah  B.  Stebbin» 

Annals  of  a  Baby—    do 

That  Charming  Eveniug-Beilèw.'.... 


Mr..  A.  P.  Hiir.  New  aSS?ïirn^Sle%^??ï  anf  ^^S^stic  réceiptZ ..'....  t,  00 

î£:  5?^"%*"  °'""'  8ofe*î?e*»n?1^5fi  ofrsfe'ÎTd  çood  manne. 

The  Art  of  ConKeriation-/or  those  who  wish  to  be  agrceable  talkers.   . 

The  Arts  of  WntJng^Reading,  and  Speaking-For  self  improvement 

New  Di^ond  Editî|,-Smairsize,  elegaritly  bSund,  3  vol.Xs  in  a  bw i^_ 

Crleton's  New  H^lî^k^*F.IÎ&??u^tioS"?Mî;'ï'u.horship fTs» 

l^:^\^^r'^^^*i^^^^^  ••  00 

ArmWanNights-DemorainelUui..  i  00  |  Swisa  Family  Robinson-Marceli  oq 
Tnimp  Ca>ds-Hlu»tr«ted «5  |  Farmer'e  Almlniut-Illu»trâted ....      7$ 


m 


E 
1 

T 

L 

O 
A 

M 
St 
A 

P< 
Oi 

Tl; 
Je. 

'Ail 

Ai 

An 

Mo 

Ho 

Tvi 

Le< 
Plii 


y^m 


i«f* 


^?'' 


»    J      • 


"    W  n'^'^' 


••t    0!>y^'jii-      f'-  -r     ir',  r   1   ,      -^1 


....»! 

75 

I 

75 

..  ..    I 

75 

.  ..  .    I 

75 

tionfi 

5° 

♦i  So 

•  I  SO 
.  I  so 
.  I  so 


. .(a  oo 

•  ••i  50 
..  1  so 
..   I  50 


■•»' 


G.  IV.    CARLETON  &-  CO.^ S  PUBLICATIONS. 


cloth. 


••'  75 
.Ji  so 


T^rownoatheWor;/'!':.^'*?5^?,!SChf,^'"-    " 

Pettless  Cathleen '.  !°    tIh.  t      "" .81  so 

Curse  of  EverleiBh. "  " îf"  !  î'ï.S""!^'"  P«P*rt » 

Love  Works  Wonderi."  (ïnpres'sj  î  ^  j      "'  *"  Atonement.    (New) .  |^ 

Con.t,n<...  Pâte  ;  or  J|nz^*i^F^-pÇ  f  |er„-  to  Noon 
Sert»     A  u    ,'**^'  *^<»«»eroy' ("Briok.") 

GSfcr5)u^t.'*"°ï>?°"'' ^\  %  I  Sr^rf'-.  (^--boolc) <>.  3„ 

Stolen  water..    (I„  vSfe?». .  .^^^  «^^tet*»  ''»'^-  ' 

BroJcen  Dreams.      Do.        ..  i  co     Rich  m^W ,  ,. #150 

Terrace  Ro.e..    (New). .     .ï.  Z.  .V.  \  %  \  f'^o1L\^Z'^\;L^^  '"'^" '^ 

The  Life  of  Jésus    .frâ*,sl5fd"tf>.   ^'htHS^  JÇ<»'J»'  "° 

A  New  Book "*'""  Maguires  and  Détectives,  a  50 

One  Fair  Woman      (Prose)       ^"*^  MUler.  , 

TheCu.pHtF,y-Thewen.^.,^S^oo!K^-„,.,,„„^^^ ,_ 

journey  fron.  New  York  to«?pS:S^3^s?iV  i.I,.s,rW.  -  .,  „„ 

AllforHer.    (A  oovel) ^Ti^^^r»,        .         '" 

^  «      ," •'  so  I  AU  for  Hlm.     (A  novel) ti  «o 

AHomeTreasuryof  Biography^Poetry,  Hi.t^e*^  I„ust«ted f.  «, 

AiMrther»«*n«wi*     /'«»•  Wlddemer  Hartt.  '^ 

AoWher  lUn  s  Wrfe-A  «ew  story  of  everyday  Hfc  and  character. ..... .î  t.  w 

Mortfjn,  Otories-For  chiidrtn  ;   by  ,h.  author  of  "  LitUe  Women,"  eic  g,  ^ 

Ho«.ek,nH«f  In  Old  Virginl—A  new  souAem  coot^tT^k .        /  S.  „ 

TWO  Boand  Volumes-By  Frank  Moore.  wîA  »  ^"^h. jL^,.  , 

Ij«d  Astrav— By  Octave  Feufllet. .        7,  1  Warwick_Sl  m  t  ^- .        . 

Pufpl«  «né  Fine  Linea-Fawceu       73  I  ^rt^dS^Z^^'^-'^?^--      " 


batWtan  Point.. 


75 


.,  #;■ 


**. 


i(«^'^ 


% 


".^iB 

Jv'''(>^.''    ' 

■■.  •«'■*  '  -    p 

'.   '. 

j^B 

**  (i' 

Éàà'^ 

Ik^b' 

' 

'    '^'-    s. 


%  r^ 


■  -^-^j^  .•>■ 


~      »H»>{*1 


~^^2^^££^S^^J^s7^^ 


A  H.^e«t  of  Wild  Oats"?'^**^?*??"  Work.. 

MillyJDarrell-AiJoiif  K~A-^°.7''  ^X  Horence  Marryatt 


"  "y  wue  and  i  Qua 
True  Love  Rewarded 


Threading  My  Way-^li;-  Anfnll^^?  the  author  "fnTe  to  the  Last  " -  ^  °° 

LkJtts  and Shadowa  of  4.,i,?.     . •      ^  O"'™ '  S" 

QlTmp.e8ofthrSu^:rMf,fri^?t^^^^           I'-  Home. .  .V.V -.V  "  " »  «> 

Lion  Jack-A  New  IWat^  M7n,t  '^  Records,  and  Traditions.     '  ~ 

West  India  PicH.o_?           ■    ^^''^g^'^'e  Book  for  Bovs  — P  tt  »! '  °o 

Q.  A.C?X"  TrWCoïrtfn"^^^^^^^^     Yacht  Œ4.  by  W  P  T^ul, '  5° 

Lau.  Veneris"  STher  Poem^*'l^^r*"-N<=w  York  t^  San  Frl&  "  "  "  '5° 


I  50 
I  50 


IZJf 


gœ^^^l^K-ar  •■'•■••  •^° 

Hilt  M  irflt. ,         ™  '-g**" 15" 

Out  of  tKe  Fiam.        Do '  ^o 

Hammejr  and  Radier  Do.'.' .'  '  '  ' 
g;^r,yick_By»r-rtVai;.orth 
Hotapur.  nn'"   '   •••     '  7- 

;  l^ca^??" py«^  -  ^"^ \T, 


Parodies  and  Poema  Md  Mv  V-7^*^  -«'gonion  Charles  Swinburrie"  ■'"' 

Mother  Qooae  Mélodies  sXto  M^ÎZ   "^-"P'""  "op^ins.     lUustratet^  "  "^ 

>cques  offenbach-8  ExpIriencM  inl^^^  '  î  S 

Our'^Clfilî?*'^"  »*°°«y^»n5  hSw'o  Kelo  It  "S"^?*'"''»'  Paris  edit^oA":-        « 

New  Nonsense  RhVmM_H„  w  «  ?f  ^î°""  ^^sed  upon  the Oi^Va  Plnrt "  '  '  '  °° 
Progressive  PettiS^Â  Satlî^ni/v"^'''"'^*"''  "'•'stn.tions  b^c  G  B.UlV  '  ^° 
Souyenifs  of  Trayel-By  Madlm^rw^'^"^,^"**"  «•  «oosevelî  *"'•     '  " 

RWaïïr'iSRïL?;'  ^'^--^ô;\tr^Til'o^  (papc?S,vers):::; 

«.^.b„ry  S-ches-Pi^^-a^H^,^^,...^^^^ 

8efn*ir^d^ô:ii,'°jr^-  ^«="'-'«--,-  '  t 

.hÏÏÎ^h'  "*y  K'nK-S.  A.  Brock.. 

fa.*î!L^^?^^'°«c,e... 

Undercurrents  pf  Wall  St    "  n^ 
Rptnanceof  8tJd«tLlf.*-  .'  g"; 

Life  in  San  Do^tngo.  '.    '.    '.  S^" 
Henrr  P«jWers,  BiSker.  dÔ" 

A  Book  about  Doetors  '' 

'"■■"^«'-By  Giierra    ' 


^»yai  «into  Dtath ,,....'' 
Ucasia  WUm|rtoni-West;:ott; 


/  V 

-     *  -  t^^ 

fl 

'       *  •  * 

,  *• 

0  ' 

*     '■           r   ' 

■-  »> 

■    y^ .  '■ 

rf 

ci  '  .  il 
l"-         ".1 


J^  '>w-%  \  «    ^>. 


T  n/  "^    •  *Mf^      'ii  f 


'*     "  »  Vf  ■'/^sS-*"**'''?''''^'!^'^  •f-'"'** 


U-*^ 


«it- 


»S 

1  JH 

'  >  '.■  .'  ' 

»  75 

à 

.♦• 


CHAI^LES  DICKENS'  WORKS. 

A  «îe«r  Edition.  a 

of  the  volumes  are  unhandy-K>r  t1^  IZl  "  '^"T  ^"**  limensfcm, 
«r,  the  Ulustrations  are  unidS^to^  t^  f""""/"*^  i|distinct-. 
the  price  «  too  hi;,.h.      """^'^"«'o'T-or.  the  dmding  is  poor-«r, 

«4ct.  «>a.pl«e.,«,tlr;^^^^^^^^ 

««irlefn'r  ^^^  iii„«trated  Edition.» 

/^  COMPLETE  IN  15  Volumes 

«tirelySir^/SïdeaS  0-^!'"' '°'  \oldi„g,_  the  type  i» 

PiSSs'lSS:„ï^^;^-ig.artqchpse„tch^^ 
#ttractivé^md  substant^  cffier"^  "^  '"'^  ''^'*^  "«  «f  « 

pnce  01  f  1.50  per  volume,  as  follows  :— . 
I— PIÇKWÏCK  PAPERS  AND  CKTAlhcuJt 

^IW—WTtLfe  OORRIT. 
"•— MARTIN  ÇHUZZLEWIT  ",  • 

la.— OUR.MUTUAL  FRIBfiD. 

^  .5.-0»^,.*  i»<^^î™  ri'^-,^  : 


;V.  ' 


ÎIJ 


*■'/ 


1^ 


\      # 


V5F*^ 


^^'  'f?*'r^^»*fyv^lr,#^ 


l^^ii 


'  ♦•"•  a,- 


n 


r 


Maiy  J.  Holmes*  Works. 

I.!,-: 


-TiEMVKST  AND  SUNSHINE, 
i  -ENOLISH  ORPHANS. 
»  •  I^OMESTEAD  ON  HII.I.SIDK 
I    -'ÏIKNA  RIVERS. 
!     MEADOW  imoOK 
l-DbRA  DEANR. 
/.-COUSIN  MAirOK.       ' 
'6  -WEST  LAWN. 


— MARIAN  GiUY. 
•DARKNESS  ANi^DAVLIOm 
le  —H  UGH   WORTHjDrOTON. 
n— CAMKRON  PRt*ÏE. 
la.-ROSE   MATHER. 
iV-ETHELVN'S   MISTARR 
M.-MFLLBANK. 
1^15-— BDNA    BkOMTNING 
17— EDITH  LY1,E. 


OPINIONS   OF    THE    PRESS. 


m™.   HoUm    M„r.e»  ,rî  univ«,all^  rcat».     H"  ^..l.n.rer»  are  n.jmr*HiM» 

!!."J1."  ™.""T-,'**'^"  *"'''""  =*  "^»'  '"  ""=  *°''*1  °^  fi<^rion.  Her  ch«,ct«. 
»«  ahray.  I.fc-ia<e.  and  she  mnke»  them  Ullc  and  aci  likc  Kuman  heing..  „,b»c| 
lo  die  .amr  «„«.«.,,  .w.ye,!  by  U«  «une  p.»«on».  ard  achiated  by  tb«  t»m* 
"•^"«s  whk..1  ara  «Runon  amoiig  raen  and  womca  of  every  day  exiitcncr  Mrt 
nolmt»  u  ver,  haçpy  in  portrayintt  domeMic  life.     Old  and  young  penj«i  h« 

v;:V:Î  C*,''"""-  ""  •"  "^"^  "^  "  ^'^'^  '^-^  »=  can'^.np^hll'!: 

r  Mr..  Hol^M  »torw,  a«  ail  of  a  domes.lc  character,  and  their  m^mt. 
iST;."  T  tl'T"  "  •■'  ""'^  *^  ""«  •"«•""  «"»»"«'  wiU,  «n«.ion.» 
PMbtehsr  m^t  choo..  «  «nnounc  from  hcr  pen  would  ge,  an  immedia,c  and 
P»«al  nSdmK.  The  ,nter,«  b  her  de.  begin,  at  oncç,  «,d  «  nuùnwined  io 
ZllTi.  "''"""•"«»"»  •«  •»  «"«"d.  bei^-mpathie.  so  warm  and  r«Ml,, 
«J  W  knowledge  of  n.anne«.  character.  a.«*  Ae  varied  inddenu  of  cdinai 
2^»  Aorough.  ,ha.  J.e  ,„uU  «»d  it  d.«cul.  .o  ,r.w  «.,  othcr  ,ha7« 
««wlleM  tUe  if  ihe  were  to  try  iL'—SMÈ^m  Bamntr 

«Mr^Hdn».  t.  ^  ,^„tmf,  W  .  ,i*fc  .ml  «rue  ««,  ci  hi«or   a 
«ympaihelK  tona,  a  percepti»  oT  dmcM;  aHl  a 
plmiaatfv  adaptei)  to  the 
Mtviçan   reiulen   far   ^bam 


1uraJ'~Hi 


'kmg  T. 


txtaakuz  Myk, 
■•d  idoU  fiuitaaira   km*  m 


•èJ'S  ..        f    •  "'^■•"•'  -  ■  ■   ■■■■ i   I 

,       Wr  Tha  MhuM*  ar,  ab  handagm^  pitand  Ué'  ^mh  m  ~^'-     rnlit 
.   .««vririiar.,  nd  «nt  by  mail. >•»««»  >»5f ,  M  Modptal  iM»  I|t^  ai«4j,  |, 


•sàr. 


\- 


•■ni 


■î»-!      ' 


ii.i.ivi>,^ooks^of^8octï:ty. 
•  '•— The  ^rt  of  conversation 

,  Aw«gtha  contenta  wiU  be  foMTch»ptew  ^n-  *^  °°**     *•*  ^^"^  «M» 

^™moN  1»  Convematiou.-Satim.- 

«^TOt^NDlVO.-^EoOTI8M.J5ou?^SS^ 
— OTABDro,— DlSAOaKKABUt    SUBJKOIsi— 


fwJ^V  *"''  ^"'  Cdbb.-Modmtt... 

—MWOEIXANHODb  KN0WMD01.--LAK- 


MM  agreeable.    The  whole  tatow^rS^fh  T'^  «"«wer»,  and  tho  art  of  makingr  Me-  •' 

mente,  remark»  on  lashion,  etrvrPri«  «1  iS^T"*  ilL.HtrationR  of  K>cial  prldlcT 

captera  npon-  ^      "'      •    ""«*-  »l-60.    Among  the  contenta  wiU  be  towd  ^ 


Captera  npon— 

LadM»'  PBWrA01t._*A8BI0H8. 

THonoHjre  on  Sooibtt 
GooD  Socistt.-Bad  Sooutt. 
Thb  Dresbino  Room. 
Thb  Ladies'  ïou*r dbeb. 

FEICWINE  AcCOMPWSHMENm 

Mannkbs  and  Habits 

^ratio  AND  Pbivati  Ehoubim 

MABBnCD  AND  UNMA^BI.D^tS.. 
OA^NO^„^%OJS?'-"- 


-»  »•  ■ 


Imdies  AT'DINNÏB. 

DtNNEB  Habits.— CÂbvwo. 
Mannebs  AT  SnppïB.— Bah*. 

MOBNINQ  rABTIES.— PlONIOr. 
,  BVENINO  PaBTIES.— DaKOBI 

Phitatk  Thbatbicam. 

RlICKMI0N8._EKaAGEM«NTfc 
MaRRIAOE  CERKMONim. 
INVITATIONB.— I^BKBHKa 

Bhidkbmaids.  — Pbesents. 
TBAVEi/ho  Etiquette. 
Piiwjtc  Promenade. 
OooMTBT  ViMxs.— cnr*  VjMnu. 


:t 


r 


W2^J?   A*;"**^  A»l>CONHTBrCnON.- 
WHAÏ   TO    Atoid.— Lettkb     WEmwn 

PBONWNOUmON  _  BXPBE.HO»  J^SnE  - 
^UJ»M--l*AltATIO        RKADnia8.'-0iA. 

fO"  Ai^  8wuKiNo.^(rHAT  TO  Bat- 


•  •  _».    -wi    iu    OA»— HOW    TO    BKOIN  — 
Up»T.— AOMON OSATOBTtnr  THB  Pm 

«■«r.  a«l  h>nd«.m>ly  boanTto  ^to,     î^i^JJ^fS  ,^7'"°"*'  "'*^"r  l*rft»«.rttli 


'^iKÏÏÎSJ^^  ""*"^"'^P'^^-  ««-nd  and  -ent  ^7^  p^^^  ,^ 

g.  W.  CABLETON  &  CO.,  PntUshers,  New  Yprk. 


:i 


i  ^^4&h^^  i 


.^f^-i 


?*■. 


.  •'/■ 


:»^--^^ 


ai- 


tl 


•Vl 


H 


•. 


S 


yu  , 


FOPULAH  ^  NE^  BOOES. 

r    *>^EW  rOBK  WEEKLT*'*8EB1E8. 


Messrs.  Street'*  Smith,  publlskers  of  The  Few  tork  Weekly,  havinff 
boea"^  reauested  by  their  readers  to  issue  their  best  and  most  popular 
Stories  in  Book  Form.  hâve  consented,  and  hâve  n«w  made  arrange- 
ments for  snoh  publications  with  tl^  weU-known  New  York  House'of 

Q..  W.  CARLETON  &  CO.,  Publishers. 

The  intention  Is  k>  issue  in.  Book  Form  such  Novels,  Stories,  Juvenil» 
Works.  Humorous  Writings.  etc..  as  haye  run  through  the  columns  of 
The  Neu)  Tirrh  Weekly.  and  hâve  provèd  to  b€f  the  most  popula*.  and  most 
lasting  in  interest'  Thus  the  millions  of  New  Tork  Weekly  readers, 
scattered  over  the  oountry.  who  ^have  been  partiônlarly  pleaaed^ond  de- 
lighted  wlth  certain  stories  in  thô  Paper,  and  wlio  would  like  to  hâve 
them  in  Book  Form  for  préservation  and  lor  re-reading.  will  now  hâve 
this  opportunity  to  buy.  from  time  to  time.suoh  Works,  and  so  gradually 
form  a  beautiful 

lilBRAEY  OF  CHOICE  BOOKS, 


>ft-. 


s 


/ 


tho  yery  cream  of  the  contributions  to  The  NewTork  Weekiy. 

The  volumea  abready  vuUished  are  as  foUows.— 

Thewn  on  the  World.— A  Novel  by  Bebtha  M.  Cij^ 
Pèerles*  0«tlila«fc-A  Novel  by  Coba  Agnbw.  ^    y 
Faithflll  Wfcrgaret.— A  Novel  by  Ani^Ashmobb.  I 
Nick  Whifflf».  -A  Novel  by  Db.  J.  H.  B&binpon.     t 
Lady  loonota.— A  Novel  by  Cabbib  Conkijn. 
Charitr  Chrtodor  Papor%  -A  Humorous  Work.      • 
A  Bitter  Atonemeat.— A  Novel  by  Bbbtha  M.  Ghkx. 
Cnr«e  of  Evérleirt  -A  Novel  by  EUiBH  Cobwin  Pisbob. 
Lo*«  Works  WI»A«r*.-A  Novel  by  Caboums  Babton. 


\- 


A 


V 


<; 


\^:^i 


«-  Thèse  bocks  are  fcandsomely  printed  and  elegantly  boand  lu 

oloth,  with  gold  back  stamps.  prico,  $1.80  each.  „      ^      %- 

Sold  by  Booksollorrfeverywhere-and  sent  y  mail,  pomagt  JïWfc 


an  wfletpt  of  prit»,  li.BiU>y^ 


Ul 


^.%  OAELETO»  ft  00.,  TvX^a^  Itoâlwn  Sfom,  Vww  Twfc. 


^fe#l 


'Â''  ^ 


■      jeu:*"' 


c 


IS. 


Mv,  havliig 
ost  popular 
de  arrange- 
rk  HoTise-oI 

sliers. 


les.Javenil» 
columna  ot 
.a^.andiuost 
îfcll/  readers. 
ased  and  de- 
like  "to  bave 
ill  now  havo 
BO  trradaally 


Fee/ctv. 


r 


y"-\ 


PlSBOE. 
MON. 


Ltlr  boond  in 

^ 

,9oéLamtrm. 

' 

\  Hffir  Toik. 

:  _     ■  1 

-»■  " 

^^ 


>. 


%- 


--  '    *„ 


\i 


>d«UV^      Jt      J  <^fi| 


j>>\ 


A/ 


^J' 


i 


^    / 


' 

j 

f 

, 

^  / 

- 

., 

Lt 

\ 

- 

» 

-• 

• 

t 

te::^ifcr"      -«-y:;: 


'    i^-i.=^''      v^A 


»  » 


W- . 


